Author's Notes: At last count, 95 people had clicked to read chapter six (though I can't say for sure that they finished it), but only two people let me know if they enjoyed it at all. I want to sincerely give my appreciation to snowdragonct and Kaeru Shisho for their reviews on ch. 6(and to Teri Toad for the new review on ch. 4). I admit that I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the story and definitely keep them in mind when I am writing. "Africa-chapter" (as H and I call it fondly when we talk about it) was a joy for me to write, and reading new reviews is always one of the best moments in my day.
This chapter weaves in and around several episodes to catch you up on what Heero & Trowa have been doing before we see all five pilots in the next chapter for their return to outer space. Thanks for reading!
Chapter 7 – What Do You Do – (Episodes 12 – 17)
o/ I got a one-way ticket on a hell-bound train
With nothing to lose and nothing to gain
Nobody ever taught me how to live /o
At first, there was nothing. Just a dark, bleak emptiness.
Then, the sound of rushing water, as a river in a storm.
Last, the indistinguishable warbling of a TV turned on too low to understand the voices.
Relena? Heero Yuy blinked several times before the world came into focus and then he realized that he did not recognize the curly head of hair that was seated on the couch a few feet away, back to him. As he shifted in the bed, the girl turned towards him, dropping her knitting on the table.
"Hey, you've come to! Wait, I'll go get Trowa!"
"Trowa?" Heero tried to sit up and winced in pain. I shouldn't even be alive.
The girl lifted her hands in alarm, not sure how to prevent Heero from getting out of the bed. "You should take it easy!" The sound of the door opening behind her distracted Heero and he let himself sink back into the bed. "Trowa, your friend's woken up!"
Trowa walked into the trailer, not at all sure how this conversation was going to go. I'm not sure a guy with a death wish is going to thank me for the rescue. Stopping just inside the doorway, he caught Heero's eyes and they stared hard at each other.
Sensing the tension and realizing they might want to be alone, the girl turned back to look at Heero, clapping her hands together. "Oh, you must be hungry! I'll go make some soup." She made a hasty exit through a nearby door and Trowa took a step closer.
"Where am I?"
"With a traveling circus. Where I hide myself."
Heero clenched his teeth for a moment, trying to keep his temper firmly checked. "Why'd you save me? I was supposed to die." The mission is over. The Gundam is destroyed and I should have gone with it.
Trowa eyed Heero for a moment longer before sitting down on the couch, his back to the other pilot. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to figure out the best way to convey his thoughts. After all, he didn't feel at all guilty for having rescued Heero and had no intention of being "blamed" for the fact that he was still alive. Because it's a ridiculous and overly dramatic concept. He couldn't help the slight sarcasm that rolled off his tongue as he reached to turn up the volume on the TV. "You died a long time ago."
Heero was surprised by that response, but before he could think of something to say in return, his ears tuned into the news report with curiosity.
"The forces retaliating against OZ have ignored our advice with regards to disarmament and are causing unnecessary carnage around the world."
"One month has passed, and OZ hasn't touched the colonies," Trowa added flatly, turning down the volume again. "They're just fighting militaristic nations on Earth."
Heero felt for a moment like he'd just had the wind knocked out of him and his eyes widened in surprise. "A month has passed?!" Shit…what if a message… no. No, there's no messages because Wing is gone.
"In OZ's eyes, you're already dead," Trowa replied, getting up from the chair to turn off the TV as he glanced back at Heero. For you, it's over. "You're no longer restrained to the colonies. My case isn't that simple."
"They found you?"
"No. But there hasn't been one mission since that day." And I'm beginning to doubt there ever will be again.
"I see." Heero looked away from where Trowa was sitting, considering. No missions meant that only a marginal amount could have happened while he was unconscious. It sounded very much as if Trowa had been in hiding since Dr. J's surrender, which meant that the others probably were as well.
"I'm not sure what to do. What if OZ used the colonies as a shield again?" Restless, Trowa rose from the couch and moved to the small window in the trailer, folding his arms to rest upon the sill. "Or should I be following your example?" He'd thought a few times about self-detonating Heavy Arms, but something had stopped him. Maybe it was the same something that had let Heero live. Maybe it was because this wasn't over yet.
Heero knew what the other pilot was contemplating in that silence – it was probably just as melodramatic as his earlier death-wish thoughts. He figured he could return the reality check. "In that case, I've got one warning. It hurts like hell."
Completely startled out of his train of thought, Trowa looked thoroughly surprised for a moment, but recognized the jab for what it was and started laughing. I think this guy really gets it, gets how utterly messed up this whole situations is.
From the small kitchen, Heero heard the girl's voice call out to them in shock. "Hey, I think that's probably the first time I've heard Trowa laugh out loud."
Heero didn't know what he could possibly do in his current state, without his Gundam, but he was still alive, wasn't he? He didn't even know what the fall-out of his self-detonation was. "I've got a favor to ask; the first since I came to Earth. What happened around the world while I was unconscious?"
"I'll tell you." Trowa came to the edge of the bed and helped Heero to sit up as the girl returned with soup for the two of them. "Heero, this is Catherine. Catherine, Heero."
"Thank you for the soup," Heero said politely and she smiled at him before touching Trowa's shoulder lightly.
"Don't be too long, Trowa. We're having a meeting in a fifteen minutes, out by the lion cages."
Trowa nodded and waited until she had left the trailer before sitting down on the end of the bed with his bowl of soup. "Honestly, not much has happened. After your self-detonation, the four remaining Gundams all disappeared very quickly."
"Did they all make it out alive?" Heero sipped his soup slowly, forcing himself not to think about the deeper reasons for wanting the answer to that question.
"I'd assume so," Trowa replied. "If OZ had caught one of the other pilots, with or without their Gundam, it would be all over the news. What they're promoting right now is their declaration of peace towards the colonies."
"Which is a load of shit."
Trowa couldn't keep the hint of a smile off of his face, because Heero was definitely voicing exactly what he'd been thinking for the past few weeks. "Agreed, but with no news from the colonies…"
"There's no way of knowing what they want." Finishing the soup, Heero set the bowl down on a small table beside the bed and rolled his shoulders experimentally. He had tried to hide his mission from Duo the entirety of the time they had spent together, but at this point, it seemed rather obvious that the Gundams were not each others' enemies and he found himself relenting in his secrecy. "The mission has always been to eliminate OZ. In that transmission from space, even when the man was surrendering, it did not sound like the objective had changed."
"It's just been compromised," Trowa muttered. He reached to pick up Heero's bowl and stood up. "I have to go attend this meeting, but if you want, we can talk further when I return. There's a bathroom through that door and all of the medical supplies are in there as well.
Heero waited until he could catch Trowa's eyes, quite aware that he already owed him a debt, whether he wanted to or not. "Thank you."
Trowa didn't respond, but nodded once before leaving the trailer. After he had gone, Heero slowly swung his legs around until his feet hit the floor and then used the wall to ease himself to his feet.
o/ I'm feeling like I'm lost- like I'll never be found
I'm twisted and I'm turned around
Nobody ever taught me how to love /o
It was a slow process to walk across the trailer to the bathroom, but with every step he took, he found his strength returning. In a month's time, he was sure many of his injuries had healed, but he could tell very quickly that he had a few tender cracked ribs and that his left arm wasn't quite right. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he carefully unwound the layers of bandages, surveying scars old and new.
Well, I've certainly been worse… Reaching into the shower, he turned the water on and slipped out of his boxers before getting in. Heero closed his eyes and let the warm water run over his body, thinking of the last shower he'd had, more than a month ago.
Heero was pretty sure that Duo was alive after what Trowa had said, but he didn't know for sure. Even if he was, he had no idea how to contact him. I wonder if he knows that I'm alive. He felt a grain of worry tug at his heart that Duo might think he was dead and then felt immediately confused as to why he should be worried about such a thing. He had definitely held himself back from examining their interactions too closely because of the mission and so he hadn't really stopped to consider how he felt. As long as there was the mission, how he felt wasn't supposed to matter. But now…
With my Gundam gone and all contact severed, what of this mission even remains?
He still wasn't ready to believe that the mission was over. The target still existed and unless he heard personally from Dr. J that the objective had changed… and what of the other pilots? He still didn't know if they were also answering to Dr. J or to someone else. He didn't know Trowa or the other two pilots very well, but he was sure Duo felt the same way he did about the mission.
And here I am, back to thinking about Duo again. And it was impossible to think about Duo while in the shower without thinking of being in the shower with Duo. When he closed his eyes to let the water soak into his hair, all he could see was Duo's auburn cascade and his own hands tangled in it. Leaning against the wall of the shower, he relived pinning the other pilot against a wall himself and devouring that sweet mouth.
Heero was hard already and he clenched his fists in frustration, knowing it was faster to give in than to try and fight it. Wrapping a hand around himself, he stroked hard and fast, letting his senses overload with memories of touch and taste. His knees turned to jelly under the force of his orgasm and he reached behind him to turn the water cold, standing under it for a long time, his breathing quick and shallow.
It was only when he heard the door of the trailer opening that he finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry his hair. He slipped his boxers back and surveyed himself in the mirror, deciding it would be wisest to leave the bandages on at least overnight while his skin was soft from the water. When he was finished, he came out of the bathroom and moved carefully back to the bed.
Trowa was sitting on the couch when Heero came out of the bathroom, but he rose to help him back into the bed and then sat on the end of it again. "Feeling any better?"
"The shower helped," Heero admitted, easing himself back onto the pillows again.
"The circus was offered a gig at the OZ base tomorrow night."
Heero could tell that Trowa was holding back and he raised an eyebrow. "Are you planning something?"
"I don't think we're going to get any more missions," Trowa responded flatly. Part of him didn't want to have to defend himself to the other pilot, but at the same time, having to explain his stance made him just that much surer of its validity.
"You're going to act on your own?" In a way, I acted on my own. Dr. J never said expressly to destroy the Gundam. I just thought it was in the best interest of forcing OZ to stop holding the colonies hostage – and I was right.
There was a long moment of silence as Trowa considered the alternative – sitting around waiting indefinitely for a message that might never come, while OZ moved in on the very colonies he was trying to protect. Not acceptable. "Yes," he finally answered firmly. "I don't believe that the people I work for would want me to abandon the objective this easily. I can't just remain idle, even if I don't make it out alive."
Heero nodded slowly. "I can't say that I might not do the same, were my situation different."
"I'll leave food and car keys. Stay here and concentrate on getting better." Trowa rose from the bed and walked across the trailer.
"What'll you do?" Heero called after him.
"Not everyone in the colony agreed to fight using the Gundams. The Gundam attack was started by a small group who felt strongly about it. I was one of those people." Even more than his orders, Trowa had begun to feel that there was a bigger reason he needed to continue this mission. The more he understood the true depth of what OZ was doing, the more he felt that they needed to be stopped at all costs. Wasn't it part of their mission not to lose sight of that?
Heero could tell that Trowa was struggling with a lot of the same things he was regarding the mission. There's something similar about us… we've both been trained to complete the mission, no matter the personal cost, but both of us would be lying if we tried to say we didn't have a personal stake in this also. Heero could also tell that the other pilot definitely respected him, and already in his debt, Heero figured that the least he owed him was the truth as he saw it. "There's nothing wrong with acting on your emotions. Least that's what I was taught."
"I mustn't give OZ an excuse to invade the colonies," Trowa said, an edge of quiet determination in his voice. "This plan of mine, it isn't rational…" He paused, considering the advice Heero had just given him. Really, he'd already taken it without realizing it. "So I did what you did. I followed my emotions."
Trowa left Heero alone for the remainder of the night and by the time Heero woke in the morning, the majority of the circus crew had left in carts for the OZ base. Wandering around the mostly deserted camp, he found the costume trailer and helped himself to a white button-down shirt and a pair of black slacks. It wasn't his usual attire, but it was probably more suited to what he had already decided he needed to do next.
The conversation with Trowa had sparked him into thinking in a new direction. It was obvious that OZ was still evil. No matter what they coerced Dr. J or anyone else into saying to the contrary, that fact would not change. But without the Gundam, his power was limited and so were his options. He would give the powder keg a little more time to ignite before returning to space, and in the meantime, deal with one loose end.
Marshall Noventa, I owe you and your family my respects.
His mind made up, Heero started collecting food and supplies to load in the car Trowa had left him. It was nearly midnight and he was just finishing loading the vehicle when the carts of the circus performers began to return. He waited beside the car, a few yards away from Trowa and Catherine's trailers. He was surprised to see the girl come racing across the field and into her trailer, slamming the door brutally behind her. Has something happened to Trowa? He was just about to head to Catherine's trailer to ask when he saw the other pilot appear at the edge of the camp, his walk slow and resigned. Heero raised his hand in greeting and Trowa walked towards the car. "Are you leaving?"
"Yes," Heero replied, debating about whether he should ask how the night had gone.
"Would you mind a travel companion?" Trowa met Heero's gaze evenly, wondering if the other pilot would press him for details. He knew he wasn't welcome in the circus right now after what had happened tonight, and he didn't know what else to do. He knew he would be lucky if Catherine even spoke to him again after the destruction she'd watched him cause. But her tears stopped me… And now fate seemed to be presenting this opportunity.
"As long as you can pay your own way and not get in the way," Heero shrugged. "First, I need to get to somewhere that I can get online and do some research."
"I'll go wherever you want to go," Trowa replied and then gestured to the car behind them. "Let me help you transfer the supplies to a larger vehicle that can accommodate my mobile suit."
"We can set out in the morning," Heero agreed with a nod. I wasn't expecting company, but it might come in handy. He tried to convince himself that Duo's absence had nothing to do with the small decrease in his antisocial behavior or his acceptance of Trowa's request.
o/ If you were to tell me that I'd die today
This is what I'd have to say:
I never really had the time to live /o
Heero knew very well that this could be his last five minutes in existence, but without that hanging over his head, he didn't think he could really forgive himself if it wasn't. Odd irony… He wasn't scared for the loss of his own life, for he'd never really considered a future beyond this war. He couldn't. There was no purpose to his existence beyond the mission. And if it hadn't been for the seeming end of this mission, he wasn't sure he would have embarked on this selfish quest. But if he couldn't find a way to forgive himself for killing Marshall Noventa, he was certain that he'd never really have peace of mind. In the end, his thoughts were jumbled as crossed the graveyard two steps behind Sylvia Noventa, granddaughter of the pacifist he had let OZ trick him into killing. He didn't know why he knew that this was simply the right thing to do. He just did.
It had been a long day, from crashing the jeep to avoid killing Sylvia herself to Trowa's nearly being caught and Heero simply wanted to get this over with, so he could end or move forward. Finally, the blond stopped and turned to look at him.
"Heero? You said your name was Heero Yuy?" Heero took a step closer and nodded. "This is my grandfather's grave. You wanted to talk to me…?"
At first, Heero didn't answer her, stepping forward to lay flowers on the grave. As he stood, he reached into his pocket, withdrew and held out a gun to her. "I was the one who killed Marshal Noventa."
"Huh?! " Sylvia's expression was one of complete surprise.
Heero took her confusion as a demand for further explanation. "I made a mistake. I accidentally shot down Marshal Noventa's shuttle. Killing him and other people who'd advocated peace."
As Sylvia digested the information, a strong wind rustled Heero's hair and he felt for a moment like the universe was embracing his actions. "How could you?! Why?" she finally cried at him, a bit helpless to understand why he had come to tell her this.
"This is the only thing I can do for you right now. Sylvia Noventa…" He pronounced her name carefully, making sure he would not ever forget this moment. Sylvia grabbed the gun from him and pointed it at him with shaking hands. "I can't undo my mistake. I hope the anger felt by the Marshal's loved ones and the regrets of the Marshal's soul can be somewhat eased if you pull that trigger."
"You're such a coward! You obviously just wanna take the easy way out of this!"
Heero wished that was the true explanation, but he had already tried the easy way – trading his life for the colonies. He should have been dead, but he wasn't. It seemed the universe still had need of him or he would have died in that self-detonation. The only way is forward. Heero closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "This is the only answer I can offer you now.
"You coward! You coward!" Even though Sylvia was still yelling, she was slowly dissolving in tears and the gun was lowering. The moment had passed. Heero let out the breath he'd been holding.
"Understand that I didn't come here to make you suffer." I hope I've given you at least some peace of mind… He started to turn away, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm going to pay a visit to your grandmother. I heard she's in Sicily."
"Yes…" she started hesitantly, then yelled after him. "Wars are nothing but repulsive killings! How can you be so clear-cut about it all?!"
Heero glanced over his shoulder briefly, but he didn't have a deep explanation for her. What explanation could he give for what guided him – a confusing mess of morals and demands and expectations and emotions – there was no way to put that into words, so he didn't try. "It's the only way I can live."
From where he sat inside their parked vehicle, Trowa leaned on the steering wheel and listened as the wind carried the end of the conversation to him. He had begun to understand, over the course of the last few days, exactly what Heero was going to attempt. It was as ludicrous as it was honorable and Trowa wasn't sure yet whether or not he would have done it himself, in this position.
"This is where it starts," he murmured to himself, squeezing the steering wheel in his hands. "He goes to every family member, seeking their verdict. Everything he does is thorough and well thought out. Everything Heero Yuy does." He didn't know exactly why, but he couldn't help admiring the other pilot.
"I'm ready to go," Heero intoned softly as he climbed into the truck. "We can stop somewhere on the outskirts of the city for some rest if you need, but I'd prefer to drive all night and stop in the morning."
"Probably not a bad idea to put some distance between this Marseilles and us considering how well the day's gone," Trowa replied dryly with a thinly veiled trace of sarcasm. The two boys drove in silence for several hours and it wasn't until they were out in the middle of the deserted countryside with nothing but their headlights to see by, that Trowa felt compelled to ask. "Do you really intend to visit every living relation?"
"Yes," Heero said firmly, but his gaze was directed out the window, into the darkness. "And I don't wish to talk about it."
"Would you rather I not talk to you at all?" Trowa asked, unable to keep the hint of amusement out of his voice. Heero was nearly as obstinate as the Chinese pilot he'd met briefly, but kept his emotions under much better check – much as Trowa himself did.
Heero glanced over at Trowa now with one eyebrow raised. "I don't care if you want to talk or what you want to talk about other than that. If I find any other topics disagreeable, I'll let you know." And with that, he turned back to the window.
Well, he's definitely to the point. "Is music agreeable?" Trowa asked, trying to keep the smirk off of his face, his eyes focused on the road ahead.
"As long as it's not country."
Trowa did give a snort of laughter at this, but he flipped on the radio, finding a station of classic rock to fill the silence.
A long ten days later, Heero walked out of the wrought iron gates of yet another ornate mansion, wishing the weight on his shoulders would lift. Trowa was waiting for him just outside and he crossed the last name off the list they'd been using.
"Last stop. Satisfied?"
Heero closed his eyes for a moment, wishing he could answer affirmatively. "It's not that simple."
Trowa wasn't surprised by the answer, but after watching the other pilot beat himself up for days, he decided it was high time to step in and offer his own opinion. "You can't forgive yourself for accidentally killing a pacifist. And it happened because you were tricked by OZ. I can sympathize. But to put your life in the hands of your victim's family…"
"That's what I want." It was the tone Heero used when he didn't want to be argued with and so the two boys set off down the hill and back into the city proper. As they reached the heart of the market, Heero sensed they were being followed and he glanced at Trowa to see if the other had noticed.
Catching the glance, Trowa didn't change his direction or focus, but offered softly enough that Heero could barely hear him. "Going from place to place, I knew it'd only be a mater of time before someone found us."
"I'll take care of it."
"Wait. Shouldn't overdo it in your state. I'll stop them." Trowa didn't even give Heero a chance to argue with him as he used the cover of an approaching truck to "borrow" a red motorcycle. As he revved it up to head back in the direction that they'd come, Heero grabbed the side of the truck and swung himself into the back of it with his good arm.
Heero could tell almost immediately that the truck was headed towards the harbor, so he sat in between the crates of fruit, picking up an apple as it rolled towards him. They hadn't eaten anything today, so he bit into it, closing his eyes thoughtfully.
The last time I had an apple in my hand was on a school bus nearly on the other side of the globe…that day seems like yesterday to me, even though I know it was almost six weeks ago.
His task was complete – he'd visited every living relation and they had all let him walk away. Maybe it had been foolish to think that anyone in a family of pacifists would actually pull the trigger. Heero didn't feel any less awful about it, but he'd done the best he could and it was time to file it into the box and decide what to do next. He wondered where the other pilots were and if they had come to the conclusion he had started to reach since waking up.
I've got to talk to Dr. J face to face… and if the mission is over… No, there was no way at all that he would even begin to consider the alternative. He would only cross that bridge when he came to it.
o/ And if you were to give me just another chance
Another life, another dance
All I really want to do is love /o
As the fruit truck approached the docks, Heero jumped off the back of it as easily as he'd gotten on, a second apple in his hand. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching him, he slipped inside the warehouse where they'd parked their truck. A few minutes passed while he stood in the shadows, turning the apple over in his hands and then Trowa arrived. He stepped into the light and tossed the apple to the other pilot. "Thanks; I owe you one."
"No problem," Trowa paused for a moment, glancing from the apple to Heero to his covered mobile suit. There was a small part of him that had wondered if Heero was going to take the opportunity to ditch him and he quietly pleased that he hadn't. "If we're gonna transport this, we can't do it by land." There was obviously someone who knew they were in town, which meant it was likely that the major roads leading out of the city were being watched.
"Then by sea," Heero said, understanding.
"I've got my eye in a ship. But now we know that we're being watched. So it might be difficult."
"You can use my carrier," a female voice called from the doorway, her figure too dark to see with the daylight behind her. "I didn't expect you to be alive. It's the first time we've met face to face." Trowa dropped the apple and pulled a gun on her as she stepped close enough for them to recognize the uniform. "My name is Lucrezia Noin. I serve under Colonel Zechs."
"Zechs?" Heero had no idea what the woman was talking about, but she wasn't immediately trying to kill or capture them.
"The pilot you fought against in Siberia."
"Don't think we won't put up a fight," Trowa said to her sharply, his eyes never leaving the target even as she bent to pick up the fallen apple from where it had rolled to a stop at her feet.
"Colonel Zechs wants to meet you."
"He does? To try pumping us for information or something?" Trowa couldn't help but be suspicious and wondered when Heero was going to speak up.
"Don't misunderstand me," Noin replied pleasantly. "He's not speaking as an OZ soldier. He wants to see you as a fellow mobile suit pilot. He hopes for another chance to fight you boys."
Now that was a bizarre statement, and one that finally made Trowa stop and consider everything she'd said so far. He glanced at Heero and then back at Noin, finally lowering the gun. "He wants a final match? Sounds like an admirable guy, this Zechs fellow."
Noin was carefully watching for Heero's response, not really paying much attention to Trowa at all. "It's up to you guys, whether or not you believe me."
There was a moment of silence as Heero considered. With no news and no change in OZ's stance with the colonies, there was no real reason to hurry back to space. He could afford to tie up another loose end, couldn't he? Well, that and the fact that he rarely backed down from a challenge. "Where is he?"
Trowa glanced back at Heero again. "You're gonna trust her?"
"He's not the kind of guy to plant a trap."
Trowa had no plans to go back to the circus anytime soon, if ever and no idea what to do next. Why not accompany Heero for a little while longer? "No? Then my mobile suit will come in handy."
"Trowa!" The slight widening of Heero's eyes gave away how surprised he was. Generally, he didn't let anyone touch his mobile suit and he'd gathered that Trowa was much the same.
"Then it's settled," Noin said cheerfully. "I'll have my crew take care of this," she gestured lightly towards Trowa's mobile suit. "I have lunch all prepared for us on the carrier." She turned and swished out of the warehouse and for a moment, it looked to Trowa that she had a bounce in her step.
Lunch was entirely pleasant, as Noin didn't attempt to press either pilot for information about anything. Afterwards, Heero followed Trowa to the freight area and tried to get the hang of Heavy Arms' controls.
"You didn't have to do this," Heero informed him once they were alone.
Trowa shrugged a little, watching him climb into the cockpit. He had recovered a great deal in the last two weeks, but he could still tell that Heero's left arm was troubling him. "I know." He wasn't sure himself what had possessed him to let the other pilot borrow his Gundam for such a purpose. "In all actuality, I'm not sure I even agree with what you're about to do."
"You can still change your mind," Heero paused in his movements and eyed Trowa curiously. "You don't owe me anything." In fact, it's probably me that owes you at this point.
"I'm sure you'll find a way to return the favor," Trowa shrugged, climbing down from his perch. "Because you're an honorable guy, Heero Yuy, and there's too few like you left in this world right now."
Heero sat alone for a long time inside Heavy Arms' cockpit after Trowa had left, contemplating the path he was following. He wasn't sure he really agreed with Trowa's assessment, but he wanted to fight Zechs and he wasn't going to turn down the offer of borrowing the mobile suit. Am I following a path at all right now?
Detonating Wing had seemed like the right decision at the time, but more and more, Heero was questioning it, questioning the war, questioning himself… he realized he wasn't used to having substance beyond the mission that was worth questioning.
o/ I'm hurting everybody
I'm hurting myself
I'm desperate /o
Are people trying to stop time to find themselves?
Right now we've lost sight of how to protect the colonies.
o/ So what do you do?
When it all comes down on you
Do you run and hide?
Or face the truth /o
Two days later, sitting inside the rebuilt Wing Gundam , Heero realized that he felt more at peace than he had since he'd first woken up inside the trailer at the circus camp almost two weeks ago. I don't know what I've done to deserve another chance…
His memories flickered like the blinking screens surrounding him, even when his eyes were open, and he had a horrid case of insomnia.
First, Trowa lending me his Gundam – then, Trowa staying up all night to fit it with a beam saber.
For no reason other than to help me. Because it was the honorable thing to do.
Next, Zechs, rebuilding Wing so we could finish the battle. But not actually finishing it.
For no reason other than because it was the honorable thing to do.
Despite the fact that he's an OZ officer.
Heero was still trying to wrap his mind around that strange turn of events.
Then, there was Relena Darlian – Peacecraft – , delivering a letter he hadn't gotten to read to the middle of a pointless battle in the middle of Anarctica.
He wasn't sure if he would label that one honorable or just plain scary.
And for all that these people seemed to consider him the honorable one, they were the ones making all the honorable moves. Zechs' "Glory to the colonies!" echoed in his mind, followed by something Duo had said to him, the first night they'd arrived at that school.
-- What I do know is how we both probably feel about our entire mission… how we value it more than our own lives! --
For the first time, Heero let the tiniest idea that he wasn't alone in this mess enter his mind. Duo really had been the first to try and connect with him, and was certainly the one who had succeeded the most, he had to admit. As hard as he'd been fighting to do it all himself, these honorable people were creeping up on him and trying to form bonds. Was it simply because they believed their causes to be the same as his? Or was it something more?
Bonds… what use have I ever had for bonds?
The only bonds he'd ever had in his life had been stomped and spit on until they were a joke, after all. But whether he liked it or not, his fate was in some way tied to the other mobile suit pilots trying to bring an end to this war. He had followed the path of what seemed the right thing to do and it had led him to this moment, intact and reunited with his Gundam. OZ's latest report came on screen and he narrowed his eyes at the woman they called Lady Une.
"OZ has come to bring peace to outer space. You people are free. OZ supports you all."
"Fuck that load of shit," Heero muttered, hitting mute on that particular screen and bringing up another. A jolt of electricity raced through his system as he recognized two Gundams in an all-out barrage at the Singapore air base. He felt a grin slowly widening on his face as he watched Deathscythe take out half a dozen suits with one wide sweep of that bright green scythe.
Heero snapped off the monitors inside Wing and called out to Trowa, who was reloading Heavy Arms' ammunition. "We've got to go. The powder keg has blown."
o/ When all is said and done you could be the one
With open arms and open eyes
You're jumping off the edge and hoping you can fly
Accept your fate for what it is
Into the great unknown /o
Up Next: Chapter 8 - The World Has Its Shine (But I Would Drop It On A Dime)