Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Beautiful Dawn ❯ Chapter 08 ( Chapter 8 )

Beautiful Dawn

Part Eight

Warning: memories of graphic violence in this part.

Heero found that if he stared long enough, he could ply shape from the vague nimbus of mossy brown- green staining the ceiling. There, where phlegmatic brown met beige ... it was almost like the profile of a man. Heero squinted. Well, except for that mass off to the right. His eyes narrowed even further and raising his arm to curled it comfortably behind his head a single, glittering strand of gold, clinging to the dark hairs on his forearm caught his attention. That man .... Warily, Heero pulled it away. The long strand whispered along his skin, twisting coquettishly as he held it up to the light.

Milliardo....

Heero frownedas he recalled Zechs' teasing tone. There had been something in that gaze that he did not understand. Something that made him feel ... exposed. It was the same look that had been in his eyes in the parking lot … after…

Heero's mind danced away from the inexplicable kiss even as his fingers strayed to his lips. They were warm, he discovered, and just a little bruised. The sensation of Zechs' mouth slanting over his returned with vivid clarity. He was suddenly, aware of the softness of his own lips and the sensitivity of their pouting skin. He dragged his finger tentatively across the moist seam and immediately drew back, startled, at the strange sensation.

It had felt the same, Heero realized, puzzled , when Milliardo had done it. Except ... except it had not been the blonde's finger, but the wet rasp of his tongue. All the sensations that had been lost that night in Heero's anger came back to him, and his frown deepened even further. He had not known that anything could feel so…

Heero blinked, immediately stifling the thought. It was all irrelevant.These ...feelings ... the blonde stirred in him were irrelevant.His objectives were to get an education and to earn enough money to ensure J's continued care.They would not be changed. There was no room for weakness -- no room for sniveling emotion if he wished to succeed. He knew it, and J had reminded him often enough. But if the blonde could get to him this way....

Obviously he had not achieved the necessary level of control.

Heero fell into an angry, pensive silence. For long moments, he focused on exorcising the traitorous impulses withing himself. But absently, his gaze returned to the mysterious, malleable stain, and thought scattered. His traced its curving edges, the large blob to the right...

A man …with long, pale hair.

*

It was cold behind the large alley dumpster, and ripe with the sickly- sweet flatulence of things in various stages of decay. The warmth of a furry body rushed along his thigh and Heero stifled a scream. But he knew better than to cry out. Mama had told him to be very quiet.

There was another one with her today.

He was big and scary with hairy arms roped with muscle, and bulging eyes that were stitched through with red.

Heero didn't like any of them, or things they did to his Mama, even if it meant that they got to eat at the fast food place down the street. And sometimes if he was lucky, he could get one of those meals with the toys inside he saw on the TVs when they passed the electronics store. But the other boys on the street always stole them from him and sometimes he would cry and then Mama would promise to get him another.

He heard the clinking of the man's belt, saw his filthy hand, reaching under his Mama's dress, lifting it, exposing the mean grip of that paw on the soft pale thigh.

It was starting.

Heero scrunched his eyes shut and drew his legs close to his body -- arms wrapped tight around his grubby knees -- rocking back and forth as the man's grunts filled the air. There was a steady thump, thump thumping, punctuated by the mans own grunts and the clink of his belt as he moved, and Heero knew it was his Mama's head knocking against the wall as the bad man hurt her. He wished he were bigger and not only five years old. He wished he could tell the bad man to go away and stop hurting his Mama. He wished that they had a real house -- and not a cardboard box -- so his Mama wouldn't have to do this just so they could eat.

The grunting stopped.

He cracked one eye open and peered around the side of the bin. He could see his mother fixing her dress and the man pulling up his pants and buckling up his belt. They started arguing. Mama was asking for the money and the man ... the man was calling her names that he didn't understand but he knew they were bad.

Mama was crying now and Heero was scared. The fear gripped him and held him tight as his breath came fast, shuddering in his chest. His heartbeat filled his ears and the sound reminded him of the flapping wings of the black birds in the park that always scared him.

The man was leaving and his Mama was hanging onto his shirt. Suddenly the monster whirled, hitting her, and she fell, sprawling right at Heero's feet. He started to get up then. He wanted to go to her. He had to help her before the terrible stranger hurt her even more.

Instead, her large blue eyes held him in place, as she mouthed silently, pleading for him to stay put. His hands squeezed into tight little fists, tears streaming down his face as he raged against his inability to help the woman who was his whole world.

And the dark wings beat louder.

Her blue eyes remained locked with his the whole time. Even when the brute yanked her up from behind, cuffed her roughly about the shoulders, and at the very last when the gun seemed to appear out of nowhere, and was pressed roughly against the side of her head -- against the soft place where her hair curled gently away from her scalp. The place he liked to kiss as she pulled him tightly into arms so they could sleep.

There was a soft click.

Then his world exploded in a spray of warm blood.

Heero bolted awake.

Part Nine