Standstill | Chapter 3
The rest of the meal went by uneventfully, mainly small talk on her mother's part. Heero had nothing to add to the conversation, as it was mostly gossip about various acquaintances of her mother's, so he didn't speak another word until dinner was over. Relena offered to help her mother clear the table while he went upstairs. He seemed so grateful to be dismissed, that she almost laughed at the obvious relief on his face.
Her mother had taken the leftovers to the kitchen. Relena was still stacking the plates in a pile at the dining table, when she heard her mother's voice from the foyer:
"You've met my daughter before, haven't you?" her mother asked, and it took Relena a second to realize she was speaking to Heero. She froze, hands gripping the dirty plates, and listened, ears straining.
"Yes, I have," Heero replied, sounding earnest. Her mother must have caught him as he was making his way upstairs. Too slow, Heero! Relena grimaced.
A tense silence followed, before her mother spoke up again.
"She was a different person back then," she argued, as if the argument was in any way valid.
"So was I," Heero retorted coolly. "We're getting reacquainted."
"She doesn't need this right now," her mother whispered sharply; "She's moved on, rebuilt her life. She's better off without all that... mess."
"I think we all are," Heero agreed. Relena was sure he was aware of her eavesdropping. Her mother, however, foolishly assumed their quiet voices didn't carry over to the dining room.
"What I'm trying to say is––"
"That you're concerned I might be a bad influence," Heero completed the sentence for her, but without a hint of criticism in his usually rigid tone; quite the contrary, he sounded strangely sympathetic. "That I might bring her back to a place she had put behind her for a reason."
"Uh, y-yes..." Her mother cleared her throat, Relena guessed, to mask her bewilderment. "Yes. Exactly. I worked hard to take her away from all of that. I don't want to see her get hurt."
"Has it ever occurred to you that we might share the same interests?" Heero contended. "I don't want to go back to that place either. Nor do I want to see her suffer. We've also worked hard to put things behind us. Being together makes it a little easier to move forward."
Relena bowed her head, her heart swelling with warm tenderness.
"Excuse me," Heero concluded, and Relena saw in her mind's eye how he nodded his head in farewell before turning to climb up the stairs. She waited a few moments before making her way to the kitchen. Her mother still stood at the bottom of the staircase, looking up blankly, as Relena passed through the foyer.
"I'll take care of the dishes, mother. Thank you for a lovely meal..."
She didn't wait for an acknowledgement and stepped into the kitchen, stifling a triumphant smile.
Heero – 1; Mother – 0
Relena loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen. Her mother stepped inside without saying a word, avoiding her eyes. She fetched her nightcap, filling a fancy crystal pitcher with ice cubes before pouring golden liquid inside, and retired to her bedroom without so much as a good night. She was angry, but Relena couldn't deal with it right now. She would talk to her in the morning, smooth things out, like always.
Done with her chores, Relena went upstairs to join Heero in the bedroom. She half-expected to find him in bed, already asleep, but the bed was empty. The lamp was on, but Heero wasn't in the room. She felt a cool breeze and turned to the balcony doors. They were open, overlooking a dark blue sky and a black ocean glimmering in the moonlight.
She found him sitting facing the beach. A chair waited empty next to his, the two separated by a table. The crystal pitcher her mother had prepared earlier rested on a round silver tray, along with a matching crystal whiskey glass. She must have brought it to their room as some kind of peace offering.
Heero held a second wide glass, swirling two ice cubes in the amber-colored beverage. He turned to look over his shoulder when she stepped onto the balcony, greeting her with a silent gaze.
Panicking a little as her eyes fell on the whiskey glass in his hand, Relena caught herself and quickly regained her composure, but it was already too late. Heero had noted the alarm in her eyes. He raised the drink to his lips, slowly, glaring up at her over the rim of the glass.
Her heart sank in her chest; she felt awful. She had shown distrust again. What a disaster this weekend had turned out to be, and not just because of her mother...
Relena sighed and took a seat. She poured herself a drink, ice cubes spilling from the pitcher. She tasted a small sip, and sighed. It was only ice tea.
She turned to look at the view. A clear starry sky stretched over an endless ocean. Pale moonlight painted the beach in creamy ivory-blue; colors muted in the dark. The air was warm, with the occasional cool ocean breeze swishing through the thick switchgrass below. It rustled, and the waves murmured softly in the dark. She inhaled the salty air deeply and released it slowly, deflating against the chair. Finally, she could relax.
"I've been acting really stupid," she said. "I'm sorry."
Heero didn't tear his gaze away from the dark beach. A breeze tousled his hair as he sipped his ice tea.
"Guess it runs in the family, huh?" she tried to joke, but his stern expression did not waver. Her strained smile vanished, replaced by a frown. A drop of condensation grew on the lip of her glass and then trickled down onto her arm. She studied him carefully, her eyes tracing the outlines of his angular face. Even well into his twenties, Heero still possessed a kind of boyish charm, with his smooth skin and that messy heap of dark hair always falling over his eyes. It was the tight-lipped glare, forged into otherwise delicate features, which matured him beyond his years.
"We're not going to make a big deal out of this, are we? I don't want this to turn into another fight."
"You were being dishonest," Heero admonished, moonlight slithering across his face as clouds drifted away to reveal the moon. "You're ashamed of me. Of what I really am."
"Of course not!"
"Then why did you stop me?" he accused. "Each time I was about to say something, you stopped me. You were afraid of what I might say."
"Heero, she was asking you some very personal questions and I... I didn't want her to make you uncomfortable."
"She wasn't," he said firmly, "but you were. And, you were drinking," he added bitterly, his blue eyes burning in scorn. "Your mother had every right to get angry with you. Even I know that," he muttered and turned to the ocean, raising his glass for another sip.
Her lips parted, but she had nothing to say in return. He was right.
It wasn't very often that Heero called her out as the one at fault. Usually, she was the one to berate him for being an insensitive jerk, and, more often than not, he would agree and face the blame. Her stomach roiled uneasily. It felt awful when things were the other way around.
Heero – 2; Relena – 0
"I know," she finally admitted, turning to face him again. "And I'm truly sorry. Mother has a way of bringing out the worst in me. I thought I was protecting you. I know it's not an excuse, and I promise I'll work on it. I'm really sorry, Heero."
He nodded, accepting her apology, but he still didn't turn to face her. He gazed ahead at the murky ocean, indomitable. She recognized this stoicism; it meant that he was out of his depth, trying to decide how he should act. She gave him a moment, turning to look up at the night sky. A brilliant waxing moon shone in the heavens. Two bright stars twinkled next to it – one big and bright, the other slightly smaller; the L1 and L2 Clusters.
"You never told me about your mother," she mumbled, gazing up at the two "stars".
"You never asked," Heero replied simply, shrugging.
She turned to him, studying his profile in surprise. "You mean... You would have told me?"
"I don't hide anything from you, Relena," he murmured, swirling the sweet tea in his glass.
"Then why haven't you shared these things with me before?" she asked carefully, knowing she was treading on thin ice. She didn't want to breach what little trust he still had in her.
Heero frowned at her question, as though finding it odd. "What reason do I have to talk about my mother?" he asked, and emptied his drink.
She opened her mouth to retort, but then snapped it shut. He made a good point.
"I suppose you're right..." She murmured, turning to look down at the beach. "It's just that... I'm always afraid I might say something wrong. I never know which issues might..."
"I'm not made out of glass, Relena," he rebuked, placing his empty glass down on the table. He poured himself another drink, ice cubes clinking as they fell into the glass.
Relena wondered if he actually believed that. She watched him, a hunched figure in the dark, pale against a vast black ocean. He looked small. The wind weaved through his unruly bangs and he raised his hand to push them aside. He was long overdue for a haircut. She should offer to cut his hair for him once they got back to New York. He had been avoiding the hairdresser for far too long.
To most, Heero seemed to have been forged out of pure Gundanium, but with her – he was all glass. He had once said that he considered her to be much stronger than him. He wasn't kidding. It was the little things, the plain things only she got to see, that broke him. Things that shouldn't make people fall apart, like going to the dentist or getting a haircut, but Heero broke easily when it came to those things. Trusting a barber with a pair of scissors, being stuck in traffic on a holiday weekend, having a civil conversation with her mother... those were all dangerous wrecking balls. The truth was that Heero tended to take things to heart. Whenever he failed doing something "normal", he would crack. [1]
But she couldn't very well tell him that.
"Why did you get upset when I called you Seiki?" she asked, testing to see if he would respond as he had promised, sharing his thoughts with her.
"That's not who I am anymore," Heero replied, tone clipped.
Relena nodded in understanding.
A wave crept upon the sand and withdrew into the black deeps, and then again. A pleasant ocean breeze swept through the balcony. Heero crossed his arms over his chest, hugging himself. A notable shiver raked through him. He looked washed out under the moonlight, perhaps due to the contrast against his dark-grey T-shirt.
"Are you cold?" The weather wasn't so bad to her, just a little breezy.
"Yeah," he mumbled, rubbing his arms.
"Wait here," she said and went back inside. She knocked on her mother's door, but there was no answer, so she let herself in quietly. She feared a confrontation would ensue, but her mother wasn't in the room; perhaps she was taking a bath, because the ensuite door was closed. Relena tiptoed to her mother's walk-in closet and went straight to the hanger where she had found her father's suit earlier; a few more articles of his clothing hung there too. She took a simple white button- down and quietly slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.
"Here," she handed the shirt to Heero, who in turn arched an eyebrow at her.
"It was my dad's," she explained with a wistful smile. "Mother must have kept it."
He nodded and accepted the shirt, slipping his arms into the sleeves. The oversized shirt hung sloppily from his shoulders, and he had to fold the cuffs at least twice. It softened him; made him younger, akin to a little boy wearing his father's suit.
Relena sat back down. They stared quietly at the ocean, listening to the waves.
"What about your father?" she asked timidly, turning to Heero.
"What about him?" he snapped, the walls shooting back up.
"You said your mother was Japanese," she explained, speaking slowly. She was apprehensive but he had said that all she had to do was ask. She could not think of a better time to test him on that.
"Was it a mixed marriage?"
Heero shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. He turned to pour himself some more ice tea. "He made me call him Mister Clark," he recalled with a weary sigh, setting the pitcher back down. "And he never missed a chance to tell me I wasn't his kid, or that I should go back 'to that damn Ruskie'. To my real father." [2]
Relena nodded, just to show she was listening. The subtext was clear to her. She knew she shouldn't pry any further, afraid to touch something as tender as a child's wounded heart. Her adoptive-father had meant the world to her; he was very dear to her heart, still. Apparently, Heero hadn't been so lucky.
"You must have gotten your eyes from him then," she suggested, opening her eyes to offer him the gentlest smile she could muster; "Your biological father, I mean." She suspected a Russian man was more likely to have blue eyes than a Japanese woman.
A sudden gush of strong wind blew Heero's bangs up, and he ran a hand through them again, ruffling them back in place, obscuring his eyes.
"No," he said, sighing, "that's actually from my mother." He toyed with his hair again; a nervous gesture, perhaps?
"Really?" she marveled, unable to stop a grin from forming on her lips.
"Yeah," he murmured, shrugging, "Her name was Aoi," he said quietly, twirling the ice melting in his glass, which he now held over his lap; "That's Japanese for blue. She had blue eyes, which is unusual, so..."
Relena smiled, practically beaming. "Then you take after her."
"I guess," he shrugged. "It's a genetic fluke." He tilted his glass to stare at the ice melting at the bottom. "Makes me easily recognizable." Then he turned despondent again, grimacing down at his glass. "The CLO didn't like it," he added, and took a swig of the melted ice, tipping his head back as though downing a shot.
An image flashed in her mind's eye – the day she had first met him on the beach. The first thing he had done after she had removed his helmet, was to cover his eyes and rasp out a panicked 'did you see?!'
She turned to Heero, studying his face. She stared at his long messy bangs, at how they obscured his vision, suddenly painfully aware of why he had grown them to be so long. He was ashamed.
A genetic fluke. Anger boiled in the pit of her stomach. Easily recognizable! Relena was furious with the CLO for making him feel bad for something so beautiful; teaching him to resent perhaps the only thing he had left of his mother.
She reached her hand over the table separating them, and brushed his bangs aside gently. She smiled at him.
"You have beautiful eyes," she whispered, hoping for a magical moment, but Heero turned his head away uneasily, letting her arm fall, limp, into thin air. He pushed his hair back into place, rigid, as he studied the ocean in tense silence.
She might have embarrassed him, but his reaction originated from something much deeper, Relena suspected. It would take more than a small sentimental moment on her mother's balcony to rid him of years of ingrained degradation. It was foolish of her to assume otherwise.
The waves rustled down below, lapping upon the sand. Dark feathery clouds drifted across the luminous white moon, carried by a gentle breeze. She closed her eyes, relishing in the momentary relief from the heat pulsing in her cheeks. The night was warm and humid and the salt wind came and went like a short blessing.
"Tell me something," Heero said, his voice barely carrying over the wind. It was hard to catch his words when he was facing away from her. It took her mind a second to process what he had said.
"What? About me?"
He nodded, turning to her with tired eyes. "Yeah," he let out hoarsely, throwing in a weary smile to signal they were moving past the earlier tension.
"But I always talk about myself..." she chuckled awkwardly, tucking a strand of tousled hairs behind her ears.
"I enjoy listening."
That raised a genuine smile on her lips. "Really? I always feel like I'm babbling endlessly."
He turned to look at the beach with a charming little smirk. "I don't mind."
"Well, is there anything in particular you'd like to know?"
He shrugged. "Just... anything."
Perhaps he just needed a distraction.
"Something about your childhood, maybe."
"What, like a favorite childhood memory?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Like... Like a children's book, maybe." He turned to her; "What was your favorite book?"
"Oh, no." She shook her head, laughing. "You'd laugh if I told you."
"I won't."
"It's silly. You will."
He had that ever-elusive hint-of-a-smile hovering over his lips. She regarded them for a moment, frowning. They were a tad too pale, bordering on bluish even. Was he still cold?
When he spoke again, his voice was soft.
"So I'd laugh. Would that be so bad?"
She shook her head, smiling. Of course not; she would love nothing more than to hear him laugh for a change.
"It was Peter Pan," she relented with a smile.
"Peter Pan? What's that about?"
Relena almost berated him for not knowing, but why would he? He was more likely to have read Sun Tzu's The Art of War at that age, than Peter Pan.
"It's about a boy who never grows up," she told him wistfully. "He lives in a magical place called Neverland." She pointed up at the brightest celestial bodies she could find in the night sky, one big, the other slightly smaller.
"Second star to the right, and straight on till morning."
He turned to look up as well, frowning thoughtfully. It took her a moment to realize she had just pointed at the L1 Cluster, his far away home. She smiled sheepishly and lowered her hand back to her lap.
"Peter ran away from home when he was an infant," she continued, "He was raised by fairies, who taught him how to fly. He had many great adventures, fighting pirates and stuff like that. His arch nemesis was Captain James Hook – a notorious pirate with an iron hook for a hand. One night, Peter comes down to Earth and befriends a young girl – Wendy. Wendy Moira Angela Darling. He teaches her how to fly and takes her with him to Neverland. The girl had always been waiting for him, looking out her bedroom window into the night, hoping he would come. And then one night he did. And it changed her life." She turned to gaze at the ocean, smiling sadly. "I used to sit on my windowsill for hours, looking up at the stars and imagined myself as Wendy, waiting for my Peter," she chuckled guiltily. "Silly, isn't it?"
She looked up timidly to see his reaction, expecting a frown. She was surprised to find him smiling tenderly. She looked away, flustered by his overwhelming attention. It was like nothing else existed in this moment, only her.
"Anyway," she went on, laughing quietly to mask her embarrassment, "I really identified with Wendy, with her need to get away from the pressure her parents were putting on her to grow up. When I was really mad at them, I would fling my window open and shout at the top of my lungs – Peter! Come get me!" She laughed again, recalling how she had called out Heero's name in a similar manner – a naive fifteen-year-old girl standing on a cliff, shouting at the ocean. [3]
Heero seemed to be enjoying her tale, which made her smile in return.
"I would lie in bed at night and picture the window suddenly blowing open and Peter dropping in. He would ask for my name, like in the book, and I would proudly give it to him. I loved the fact that my last name sounds like Darling, like Wendy's name." [4] Sighing, Relena looked up at the black horizon. "The book said that all girls heard Peter Pan in their sleep, visiting their room at night, and only the lucky ones heard him while awake. I wanted to be one of the lucky ones who got swept away..." [5]
Relena reached her hand across the table to hold Heero's hand, smiling at him. "Guess I did, in a way..."
"Hn," he grunted, but he didn't let go of her hand.
Not long after she and Heero met, she had forgotten all about the silly notion of Peter Pan and the Neverland. Instead, she had looked out the window waiting solely for Heero, who – unlike Peter – never failed to arrive when she needed him the most.
She deliberated offering a twenty-second hug, but decided not. This was finally the time for words, not actions.
"Did you have a favorite book, growing up?" she asked carefully.
"No," he mumbled, staring dully ahead. "My mother never read to me, and when I was finally taught how to read, I was already with J, so..." [6]
Relena cast her eyes down. "Yeah," she uttered, knowing what he meant.
They sat in silence, listening to the swooshing of the sea. A boat sailed across the black horizon, its bright yellow beams of light splicing the dark waters as it passed by. They should go sailing tomorrow, Relena decided, and wondered if they could rent a boat on such short notice. Maybe the PSC could come in handy again...
She turned to face Heero, who was still gazing out at the water. She studied his face, and wondered what was on his mind. She hoped she hadn't stirred the demons back to life with all her probing.
Heero let go of her hand and reached to rub his arms again, even though he was now wearing a long-sleeved shirt.
"Are you still cold?" she asked, touching his arm in concern.
"Just tired, I guess," he said, lowering his hands back to his lap without turning away from the view. "Long day," he added with a jaded sigh.
"Yes," she agreed, even though their little nap earlier had been restful enough to keep her going for a few more hours. Then again, she hadn't been the one driving and piloting all day – not to mention their little exercise in promiscuity back in the PSC cockpit; Heero had borne the brunt there too...
She stood up, extending her hand to him with a tender smile. "Let's go to bed."
Relena wasn't the least bit tired. She lay next to Heero, who lay on his back, her body pressed alongside his. As usual, his right knee was propped up on a pillow, the stump of his left tucked beneath it.
She used him for her pillow, nestled under his cheek as he rested his head against hers, his hand ghosting over the small of her back. She cradled the back of his head with one arm, fingers caressing his hair absentmindedly.
The room was dark, washed by moonlight. She had left the balcony doors open and the curtains fluttered gently with the wind, letting some cool air into the humid room. She had taken her clothes off, but remained in her bra and underwear. Heero had also stripped down to his boxers, though he still insisted on using the covers for warmth. She felt it was too muggy to sleep under the covers, but she didn't want him to be cold. Her skin clung to his, their shared body heat trapped under the sheet. Even so, there was no other place she would rather be than lying next to him like this. She listened to the sound of Heero's heartbeat thud quietly against her ear.
"Tell me more about yourself," she whispered and felt him shift beneath her.
"Like what?" he rasped, perhaps pulled back from the boundaries of sleep.
"Something about before. Before all of this..." she murmured, gazing at the starry skies beyond the balcony. Her eyes sought the L1 Cluster winking in the night. "Something about the real you. Something... about Seiki."
Her head moved with the rise and fall of his chest as he exhaled deeply. His fingers drew small circles around her tailbone, tickling her skin. He was thinking. She waited patiently, listening to the soft thumping in his chest.
"After Bulge," his near-whisper voice vibrated against her ear, "I had trouble sleeping. Everything changed. I couldn't sleep."
He paused, but she knew there was more. She waited for his husky voice to break the silence.
"A man took me in. A Russian man."
Relena recalled their first date, seven months ago. Desperate to make conversation with a familiar stranger, she had asked him what languages he spoke. 'Mainly English,' Heero had replied matter-of-factly; 'A little Japanese, what I remember, at least. Some Chinese. Basic Russian. A little Hebrew.'
'Hebrew?!' she had marveled, as though he had confessed to speak Klingon. Heero had then told her about the time he had spent working for Preventer's M.E. division in Tel Aviv, until he had lost his leg. He also told her about learning Chinese while working with Chang Wufei in Beijing prior to the Middle East, but he had never explained how he was able to speak Russian.
"So that's how you picked up the language? From that man?"
"Just basic stuff. Mostly swearing," he scoffed. "Odin spoke English, but when he got mad, it was always Russian."
Relena listened, trying not to think of the horrors hiding behind a simple statement such as 'when he got mad'.
"I don't know why," Heero admitted, his hushed words drawing her back to the now, "but I always suspected he was my real father. The damn Ruskie." He paused, and she heard him lick his lips, tongue clicking. "I never dared ask him, though," he added gruffly, and paused again. He inhaled deeply, releasing the air with a lengthy sigh. "He... Odin killed people for a living. Taught me all the trade secrets."
Relena closed her eyes and nudged her head closer to the center of his chest. "That's... that's terrible."
"I was six. I didn't know it wasn't supposed to be that way." His fingers brushed back and forth against her naked back as he spoke, the words leaving his mouth slowly and thoughtfully in time with the movement. "He said it'd get easier with each kill. I became numb to it at some point, but... it never got easier. I still couldn't sleep." [7]
She opened her eyes at this. The pale beams of moonlight fell across the floor in thick stripes of luminous blue. Heero gave a long, burdened sigh. She held him tight, nuzzling her nose in his warm chest. This was hard for him.
"Odin used to hide his gear inside a violin case. [8] It was a family heirloom, from Earth. He played it at night, when he thought I was asleep. Every night. I'd lie awake in bed and listen. It helped."
"Maybe he knew," she offered, blinking away the prick of tears from her eyes. "Maybe it was his way to help. Maybe he was trying to tell you what you already knew."
She could only hear his heart beating faintly now. Fast, then slow, then fast, then slow. A distressed rhythm, worn by countless heartaches.
"Maybe," he finally said, speaking over it. "I'll never know."
"What happened to him?"
It was hard to read his expression from such a low angle, but she could see his eyes gleaming in the dark. He stared ahead at a vague point on the ceiling.
"...he got shot," he then let out quietly. "A mission on L3- X18999. And then I was with J."
She was curious to know more, but this wasn't the time to ask how he had come to join the CLO. An eight-year-old assassin would have surely drawn their attention. Without an adult to look after him, Heero must have been easy prey for the CLO. He might think that he had volunteered to enlist, but the tragic fact was that child soldiers had very limited access to information concerning the consequences of their choice. They could not control or fully comprehend the forces with which they were dealing. She had encountered many unfortunate cases during her work for the High Commissioner for Human Rights at the UN. Even if it might have appeared to him that he had chosen to join, his choice could never be considered voluntary. Heero had been a victim of circumstance, and the CLO had preyed on that innocence.
This wasn't new to her. She was always aware of it somewhere in the back of her mind, never forgetting her encounter with Dr. J at the beginning of the war. The old man had taken such pride in the fact that Heero understood the emotional pain that the people of the colonies had been forced to endure over the years, laughing almost manically when he told her how Heero was actually a kindhearted young man. She had agreed, but only out of ignorance. Now, she knew. Heero understood that pain, because he had lost everything a young boy could ever lose. Dr. J had exploited that, taking advantage of a child's heartache.
No wonder Heero had erected such sturdy walls around himself. Whoever dared approach him had to walk up against the icy winds howling along his enormous barricades. He had put up such a cold front, appearing poised and collected to the unsuspecting observer. It was impossible to catch even a glimpse of the horrors that went on behind his defenses, unless he dropped his guard and allowed her to see that hurt little boy cowering behind the wall.
Relena rose on one elbow to study his face and Heero returned her gaze evenly. She smiled a little, sad but grateful, thanking him for sharing his story with her. Leaning down, she bestowed a small peck on his lips to show her appreciation. He smiled in return, just a half-hearted gesture. Contented, she laid her head back on his chest and stared out into the night. She had never felt as close to him as she did at that very moment. Thinking back on their day, Relena had to admit that it hadn't been so disastrous after all.
"I had fun today," Heero said, as though reading her mind.
She smiled in the dark. "Me too."
"We should do this more," he added as an afterthought, "Get away from things."
She pushed up on her elbow again, the sheets rustling around her, and arched an inquisitive eyebrow.
"What?" he grumbled, and Relena smiled.
"Nothing," she smirked, "I just didn't expect that coming from you."
"Hn," he grunted, turning his head aside. "I'm just so tired all the time..." he mumbled with a weary sigh, closing his eyes and draping a bare arm over them. "I could use a break."
She studied his face, an arm across his eyes, skin pale under the wan light. He was pushing himself too hard. Not just today, but also on every other day. She would have realized it sooner, however it was so hard to tell with him; Heero would soldier on no matter the hardship, until he simply couldn't anymore. She used to admire the way he pushed himself to the limit, but now...
She lay back down, hugging him close as if to stop him from fading away.
Now... Now she was afraid for him.
"You're right," she whispered, petting the soft strands of hair across his chest; a small triangle patch of thin hair over his sternum. "We should do this more. Get out of the city. Get away." She tilted her head up to look at him. "I can take some time off work."
"I can't," he said grimly, "Not after..."
"Yeah," she murmured, "I know." He had already taken three months off for rehab. He had to prove his worth again, not take a vacation.
Grimacing in disappointment, she laid her head back down. She stared ahead numbly, curling his soft chest hair. It wasn't fair. Heero had been thrown into this terrible world of blood and war when he was only six, never catching a break. If anyone deserved to get away, it was him.
Relena tried to breathe over the terrible tightening in her chest. How much longer could he last?
"I think, sometimes..." Heero sounded pensive, starting from the middle, as he often did, leaving her the task of connecting the dots to make up for the lacking exposition. She listened, waiting to see where he was going.
"I'd get punished, sometimes," he said flatly; "Small errors. Hard lessons."
She didn't dare interrupt him. It was so rare of him to initiate a conversation, or revel in nostalgia. Perhaps this whole day has inspired him into a sharing mood.
"I had to stand at attention. For hours. A whole day, even. Just... standing still, rigid. It was... It was hard. Exhausting. But if I even stirred before I was dismissed, the punishment was worse. So I stood. As long as it took – I remained standing. Everything hurt, but I wouldn't budge. I held myself upright, somehow. I don't even know how. And when they finally dismissed me, I couldn't move. Couldn't fold my legs to sit. Couldn't even fall. I just kept... standing." He uttered the last word in a small, despaired tone. "I felt the same during rehab. Now, and then... with my leg. At PT. The feeling won't go away. It's like I have to keep standing, even though I can't. My legs are locked. I feel like falling, but I just... My knees won't budge. I keep standing, and it's... I'm so tired of standing still..."
He seemed so haggard. Relena wished she knew how to ease his burden. He wanted to be dismissed, but her love rooted him to the spot. She felt guilty for causing him such pain.
She didn't know what to say, so she lay her head on his chest and held Heero tightly, caressing him anxiously. He fell asleep after a while, his breath evening out into a slow, heavy rhythm.
Relena lay awake for a long time after.
She must have fallen asleep at some point, waking up well into the late morning hours. Bright white light flooded the room, a warm wind blowing from the balcony. She awoke to an empty bed. Heero had already left, leaving her hugging a pillow in his stead.
She took her sweet time, lounging in bed before getting ready for the day. She looked outside while brushing her teeth, peeking onto the balcony, but Heero wasn't there either. The ocean sparkled vibrant blue, glimmering beside the ivory sand. Pleasant wind whooshed through the grass along the water. It was a beautiful summer day. She couldn't wait to make the most of it.
Spitting the excess toothpaste into the sink, she rose to look at her reflection in the mirror. A wide smile was plastered on her face. She was ecstatic with the progress she was making with Heero. She had learned so much about him this weekend, exceeding her wildest dreams.
After another visit to her mother's closet (this time choosing a pair of beige slacks and an airy white blouse), she went downstairs, heading to the kitchen. Her mother stood by the sink, facing a large window overlooking the ocean. She was washing something under the tap. A colorful pile of summer fruits rested by the sink, next to a punchbowl. Relena walked over to the coffee pot across from the sink and reached to take a mug out of the cupboard.
"Waar is Heero?" (Where's Heero?) she asked while making herself a cup of coffee.
Her mother reached for a beautiful cluster of green grapes. "Wilde zijn benen strekken, dus ging hij wandelen," (He had to stretch his legs, so he went for a walk) she said, facing the sink to wash the fruit, "Down on the beach, I think."
Relena studied her mother's rigid posture, noting her stiff movements. She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to muster the strength she needed to apologize for last night.
"Moeder," she said softly and stepped closer, "het spijt me dat ik zo kinderachtig was," (Mother, I'm sorry I acted so childishly) she apologized, twisting the coffee mug in her hand. Her mother still didn't turn to face her.
"I let my temper get the better of me, and I shouldn't have. I was nervous about bringing Heero here... I should have been straight with you from the start." Relena glanced down at her coffee, too ashamed to face her mother for longer. "Sorry als ik je teleurgesteld heb." (I'm sorry if I've let you down)
"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, Relena," her mother lectured, washing the grapes under running water, "I'm used to it, but the way you behaved towards your boyfriend last night..." She shook her head in disappointment.
"I know," Relena said, "I already apologized to Heero. I don't want this to escalate into something that it's not, so..." – she looked up tensely, gripping her mug with both hands – "are we good?"
"Je bent de dochter van je vader, oké..." (You're your father's daughter, all right...) The Dutch words rolled strongly off her tongue. Her mother shook her head, sighing. "Always the diplomat. Always looking to pacify everyone..." She rattled the cluster of grapes over the sink to rid it of excess water. "Ja, we zijn klaar." (Yes, we're good)
"Dank je, moeder," (Thank you, mother) Relena smiled in relief and placed the coffee mug on the countertop. She hugged her mother tightly, catching the woman by surprise. Despite their many differences, Marlene Darlian was the only mother she had ever known, and the only one she would ever love.
"Oké, oké..." (all right, all right) her mother laughed, stiff and awkward in her daughter's bear hug. She tapped lightly on Relena's back. "Moving on," she said with an uneasy smile and turned back to her work. "Help me peel these," she handed Relena a couple of peaches, "Then you can chop some bananas."
"Hmm," Relena sniggered, searching a drawer for a peeler, "time to utilize some of those fancy grad school skills. I knew I applied for a reason..."
Her mother tittered lightly, shaking her head in amusement.
"Relena, soms denk ik dat je geen dag ouder dan vijftien..." (Sometimes I think you're not a day over fifteen...)
They made a bowl of virgin sweet punch, decorating it with colorful slices of fruit. Relena added ice cubes to the bowl and carried it out on a tray to the front porch. She decided to wait outside for Heero to come back from his stroll on the beach. When she stepped out of the house, she found him already sitting in one of the lounge chairs up front, facing the ocean. He was wearing the white button-down she had given him, his shoes thrown carelessly by the chair, soiled with soft chunks of sand. He was watching the waves lazily. Relena smiled at the sight. She was happy to see him taking it easy for a change.
She placed the tray on a small round table and poured him a glass of the punch. He didn't turn to look over his shoulder, even with all the noise she was making. She frowned, setting the glass down slowly. She circled around the chair, and saw that he was sleeping.
Relena smiled, her heart expanding warmly at the sight. He seemed so peaceful, washed with sunshine. His white shirt seemed to glow, as if engulfing him in a soft halo. He sat sagged against the backrest, his shoulders slumped, and his head lolling to the side like a slumbering child who had fallen asleep in the car.
On a whim, Relena pulled her smartphone out of her back pocket. Heero absolutely hated having his picture taken. She had made the error of proposing a selfie once, at the Brooklyn Bridge Park, and had since avoided making that mistake again. Heero had nearly thrown her phone into the Hudson.
She didn't have one picture of him, so she mustn't miss this opportunity. Not when he was looking so divine... and completely oblivious to the smartphone camera pointed at him. She snapped the picture (phone on 'mute'), snickering like a naughty teenager. He would kill her if he ever found out.
She tucked the phone back in her pants pocket, grinning happily. Standing over him, Relena waited for Heero to register her presence. He didn't even stir. He must have exhausted himself walking on the beach in this heat.
Smiling softly, she reached to caress his hair, brushing his bangs away gently from his closed eyes. Slowly, her smile faded. His hair dangled low, touching under his nose, but it wasn't moving. And he was still so terribly pale. Alarmed, she pressed two trembling fingers to his neck.
"Heero?" she whispered, voice shaking.
No response. His chest wasn't moving.
She gasped and fell to her knees in front of him. She checked for a pulse again.
None.
"MOTHER!" she shrieked, flinging her arms to shove Heero off the chair. The lounger flipped over and Heero fell onto the decking, the empty weight of him thudding against the wood. She rolled him over quickly onto his back, his head rolling limply from side to side. She positioned herself next to him, and began chest compressions.
"MOTHER!" she screamed again, pushing hard at a frantic rate.
"Relena, wat er mis is?" (What's wrong?) her mother huffed breathlessly as she rushed outside, holding a dishrag. Her eyes widened in alarm when she saw what was going on. She froze, panicked.
"Call 911!" Relena bellowed to snap the woman out of her daze. "Hurry!"
She let go of Heero's chest and moved to tilt his head back. She took a lungful of air, her chest swelling so much it hurt. Pinching his nostrils shut, she dove-in for a mouth-to-mouth, blowing life into Heero's body.
His chest rose sharply.
Her mother gaped in shock.
"Mother – go – now!" Relena screamed at her, recommencing chest compressions. She pumped Heero's chest madly, counting to thirty while fervently mouthing the numbers. Sweat broke on her brow, dripping down her burning face.
Her mother still hadn't moved.
"MOEDER!"
Her mother finally stirred to life, rushing back inside to call an ambulance.
Alone on the balcony, Relena inhaled again and breathed desperately into Heero, before resuming chest compressions.
[1] Inspired by my fav GW fic of all times: Heart of Glass by Flamika
[2] Frozen Teardrop, Chapter 4, Part I – AC 186 Autumn .
[3] People make fun of this scene , but I totally get it.
[4] See here for an interesting meta-essay about Relena's self-introduction.
[5] I nearly went with The Little Prince instead of Peter Pan (because of this comment), but in the end, I thought the parallels worked better with Wendy/Relena and Peter/Heero (also: J. Hook/Dr. J...)
[6] Based on this headcanon . I believe Dr. J had to start Heero's education from scratch.
[7] Gundam Wing Frozen Teardrop Special Drama CD
[8] Based on the Episode Zero manga .