Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Breathing Methods ❯ Intermission - Respiratory Failure ( Chapter 3 )

 

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Intermission - Respiratory Failure

 

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They haven't spoken to us since yesterday.

 

Duo's sulking, reclining on my sofa, and sending glares at any funny looks he receives, which means he's perpetually scowling. Because, damn it, they've been looking at us funny all bloody day. Well, him anyway. They're not game enough to look me in the eye at all.

 

I pout, sitting at the kitchen table, my legs stretched out comfortably on top and I'm reading a book. But I can't help but feel slightly hurt, for all my indifference, and Duo keeps sending me these sympathetic glances when he's sure nobody's looking. He knows I want them. I know I want them. They, unfortunately, have as much clue as a penguin lost in the Sahara desert.

 

I toss `1000 exciting cat recipes - your friends will never know!' across the room, smirking ferally as it crashes into the wall with enough sufficient noise to prompt a startled squeak from the kitchen. Cute little Quatre has been holed up near the oven for nearly nineteen hours now, and since he has enough food for a week we're probably not likely to see him anytime soon - toilet breaks might be happening at night, we know not. Duo mutters, and flops spastically around, growling when his braid gets caught beneath him. “Damn it, `Fei…we should just tell them. You know, the truth.”

 

“I don't really feel like dying today” I remark quietly, leaning back and crossing my arms across my chest. Apart from a slow kiss last night me and Duo haven't touched each other, mainly because we don't want to scare the others any more than they already are, but also because I'm still a little tender. He understood, even asking if I wanted a quick hand job before I fell asleep, no reciprocating necessary. I declined, and laid, his arms wrapped around me, not sleeping as we listened to the other three mutter in the dining area well into the night.

 

I think Trowa might be outside, working on his bike again, and Heero's in his room, supposedly studying a mission brief. Duo reckons he's hiding in the closet. I told him to think about what he just said for a second, and that incited the only laugh I've heard from him all day. Now he's sighing, the arms behind his head pulling his priest shirt taught against his chest and stomach, and I can't help but gaze appreciatively at the sight, my head resting on my hands as I lean forwards again. The shock of black with white trim only serves to make his skin look paler, and it's a good look for him, making him seem ancient and child-like, all at the same time. I can't imagine him in any other clothes than these, and surprisingly enough, the thought is comforting. Something consistent to rely on, in these days of chaos and blood.

 

“Hey…why do you wear that all the time?” I ask softly, and he turns his head nearly upside down to look at me, one eyebrow clearly raised. “Wear what? My boots?”

 

“No” I gesture hesitantly, eyes slipping down to rest on the white of his collar, and I nod at it. “That. The priest thing.” His cobalt eyes turn shadowed, and he looks away for a moment, gazing at the wall as he turns onto his side, posture slightly defensive. I clear my throat, feeling guilt that I don't understand, but to my surprise he actually answers. “It was from before I got involved in the war” he said quietly, tone laced with dark memories and remembered pain, and I nod, hoping he can see it. “I was raised in an orphanage, kind of, run by nuns and a priest, and since they…since they died I wear this. To show I remember them.”

 

Wow…that's amazing. His grief, palpable, every day a testament to those he had lost...”Why do you call Shenlong Nataku?” I stiffen, far more defensive than I had any right to be, and he sits up to glare at me slightly. “We're friends, `Fei. We can share things in the strictest confidence, and I know for a fact I never betray a friend of their secrets.” He rolls his eyes as I slowly unwind, still feeling slightly off balance, before I sigh, defeated by his previous admission and trust. “Fair enough, Duo. There's a couple of reasons why I call…now listen, see if you can spot it…why I call her Nataku.”

 

He blinks, before standing, moving so that he can sit across from me, legs folded underneath himself on the overlarge chair. “I heard that. Her. Aren't, like, the Gundams based on a male figure?”

 

I snort, and shake my head, amused. “If she had heard you say that…well….alright, I'm going to give you a little bit of a legend lesson, okay?” he nods, eyes lighting up again, and I remember him once saying that stories were one of his favourite things in life. “In my clan there is a legend, about a spirit of revenge.”

 

“Her name was Nataku, a young woman who lived on the outskirts of Jah-neng, a small village that existed in the ancient times, long before the colonies and even Christianity. Her husband, Yung, was a scholar, who left her at home while he travelled the land, researching the reasons why the earth existed, for the Emperor. There was peace in the land, and Nataku lived her days in tranquillity, always waiting patiently for her beloved husband to return, though her love was tinged with hate, for she was all alone, with no one to talk to.”

 

He nods, braid hanging over his shoulder and cascading into his lap, his palms on his cheeks as he rested his elbows on the table, all attention focused on my words. “There was an evil overlord from the south, who came at a time when Jung was travelling, and he declared war against the Emperor, for his people were starving and China was rich with fertility and promise. Jung was far away, resting in a snow capped mountain region far to the east, and Nataku became filled with sorrow, for the Emperor had died and all those loyal to him declared traitors. She feared he had been executed. So she took her own life, beseeching the Gods to grant her the strength to defeat the evil tyranny, and the Gods granted her last dying wish.”

 

His eyes widen, and I smile, looking down at my hands as they try to strangle each other. “Now, many months later, when Jung returned, he learned of the war and raced homewards, to see if his wife was alright, and his sorrow was great when he heard of her sacrifice. Her spirit ravaged the enemy army, destroying those who came close with her mighty sword of flame and light, her eyes windows leading down to the insanity of the jade hells. She was revenge incarnate, her sorrow healing the lands burned by the devastation of war, her justice filled with complete and utter fury. Jung travelled to meet this spirit, not knowing who she was, to beseech it to help him contact his wife, who he loved dearly but didn't realise until her death. They confronted each other in a field of flowers.”

 

I sniff, trembling slightly, because this drags many memories from the depths of my soul, and they burn and cut as they rise to the surface of my mind. “She saw her husband, and her disbelief was great, so much so that it broke the spell the Gods had placed on her to harness her to this world. She fell into his arms, mortal and dying, and with her last breaths she cursed his name, promising to hate him until he completed the justice she had started so many eons before, for time was nothing to a spirit and her existence had been an uncertain hell of yearly seconds and hourly decades. He vowed that he would, and took up her sword, never having the power she had once possessed but swearing to do as he must.” I sigh, closing my eyes.

 

“That's why I call her Nataku…to put it simply, I had an arranged wife, and she died trying to fight OZ with Shenlong, and I vowed to get revenge for her.” I shrug, leaning back again and staring him straight in the eye, and he swallows heavily as uncertainty blooms in their cobalt depths. “Our story was somewhat similar, but we hated each other, more like brother and sister than husband and wife. I vowed revenge because she was so brave, and in those seconds after she fell from the cockpit, onto the ground…”

 

I shrug again, feeling helpless though I don't know why, before a sudden thought rocks my world. “Maybe…that's why…I want you all. I know this is going to sound callous, and so cruel…maybe I want the security of having lovers, so that if one dies, I'll never be alone. I want you all so equally, appreciating all your differences and strengths and weaknesses…but I was never brought up to want so many things.”

 

“It's okay, Wufei” he whispers gently, covering my hands with his own. “I can understand where you're coming from. Just know…I want you too, alright?” I smile, and nod, and we both scowl automatically and spring apart as Trowa walks into the living room, covered in grease. He blinks, before shaking his head and starting to walk away, and suddenly I've. Had. Enough.

 

“Right,” I snarl, and Duo springs to his feet, shuddering at the utter fury of my tone, instincts instantly up and watching me with wary eyes. I rise more slowly, an unhurried, graceful, fluid movement, and Quatre pokes his head out of the kitchen as my anger flares, wildly out of control. “All three of you” I say softly, and quietly, my tone laced with threats and dire warnings, “are going to sit at this table, and we are going to discuss this. Fetch the Beasty Yuy, lover.” He mutters, shaking his head, though a manic grin flirts with his lips as he stomps off to Heero's room. Trowa and Quatre look at each other blankly, just standing there until I yell “Sit!” at the top of my voice.

 

They do. I want to laugh at their speed.

 

Duo returns, dragging a thoroughly disgruntled Heero behind him, and he pushes him into a chair before flopping back into his own. “You've got the spotlight, `Fei. I'll back you up if they try to kill you.” Heero glares, before looking at me, confused, and Trowa frowns as I sigh, leaning against the table with my hands and staring at them all.

 

“I'm gay.”

 

They blink. Duo sniggers, before I give him a look, and it subsides.

 

“Me and Duo had sex for the first time the other night. We're not in love. There is no touchy feely crap.”

 

“Yeah, and it was bloody great sex, too.”

 

“Ahem.” He blushes, looking embarrassed, and nibbles on the end of his braid. Quatre blinks at me, face nothing but big ol' aquamarine eyes and innocence, and I snort. “I took him as a lover because I wanted to, and he knows something you don't. Not yet, anyway.” I smirk, leaning back so I'm standing straight, chin jutting forwards proudly.

 

“I'm a slut, apparently. Think about the implications of that lovely little word for a moment, and see what conclusions you draw.” They look thoughtful, eyes becoming dazed, and I can only wonder if my teacher felt this irritation when he tried to explain something his students didn't get right away. Probably. My Master had been a bit of a grumpy old duck.

 

The silence draws into minutes, and I start to pace as Duo scrutinises me, amusement shining in his cobalt eyes. Heero finally jerks, whipping around to look at me with startled Prussian depths, and 02 smiles as he watches him for a moment. “Get it, do you, Heero?” he asks quietly, and Heero can only gape. I raise an eyebrow.

 

“You…you…”

 

“Let me put this in a way you're likely to understand, Heero” I say quietly as I seat myself again, gazing at him earnestly even as my heart thumps in sudden fear. Duo might have killed me. If threatened, Heero Yuy definitely would. “This is simply about sex and respect and being friends. There are no strings, no emotional involvement, and as I said to Duo, if it turns into something more permanent it's going to be about friendship, and that's it.” He blinks, before a thoughtful frown creases his forehead, and I nearly sigh. Mainly because he looks so damn hot like that, but also because he's considering my proposition on all levels, taking it seriously. Trowa and Quatre are still thinking, though they watch our exchange with interest.

 

“So…this is about relief.” Steady eyes bore into mine, and I shiver as something undulates lazily in their icy blue depths, something that makes my stomach do flips and happy dances. “You find me …attractive?” He tilts his head to the side, questioning, though I could swear…just for a moment, mind you, nothing definitive…it looked like he was teasing me. I laugh as Trowa and Quatre's jaws drop, delighted, though I hide it for all my poor tender little butt's worth. “Something like that.”

 

“You should have heard him, going on about it, the other night.” Duo smirks, and reaches forward to grab my hand with his, smoothing my palm with a sexy little twinkle in his eyes. “He's nothing but sweet lust and uncontrollable urges. He wants you so much you can't help but want him just as badly. And it feels good. There's no pain, no fear, just trust and lust and happiness. One of the better things that has ever happened to me, I can assure you.” He shrugs. “And he's hot. Sexy `Fei. That's all that matters. Tell them what you feel, `Fei. Lies hurt, and I think this one has hurt enough.”

 

I nod, slowly pulling my hand from his and folding my arms across my chest as I stare at the tabletop, tracing the whorls and folds of the plastic with my eyes. “Alright” I say softly, and Duo shivers at my tone, a mixture of vulnerability and pride. “First, though…tell me why you wouldn't talk to us. Look at us. That hurt, and I want to know why you did it.”

 

There's silence, and I feel a lump starting to build in my throat, before - “We thought you didn't trust us.”

 

I blink, and look up, and Quatre looks ashamed as he studies the back of his hands. “We're friends now…that you two wouldn't tell us about your relationship hurt. I'm not talking about the others, but me, and...it did. I would have been happy for you if you'd told me, not kept it a secret…”

 

“Quatre…we'd only had sex a few hours earlier.”

 

“I know, but you must have been-“

 

“Quatre. We only had sex, a few hours earlier. I have a problem. When it got bad…well, I couldn't stop myself. I kissed him. That was the first he knew about this whole thing, isn't that right, Duo?” He nods, and I sigh, knowing I didn't handle the situation with the proper degree of decorum and respect that such a thing demanded. “He didn't want to, at first, I think. He didn't kiss me back. Then something-“

 

“Clicked. In my head.” His cobalt eyes are hazy with the memory, and he brushes a fleck of imaginary dust from his sleeve. “It was `Fei kissing me…strong `Fei, proud `Fei…'Fei who threatened to kill me at least once a week. And before that, when he started choking and I didn't know why, I knew something was really wrong. Even before that. I was tense, about us sleeping together…not sleeping, sleeping together, but actually resting…but he was way too wired. Something was really wrong.”

 

I frown at him. “You didn't have to say anything about the…choking. I just got scared of what I would do, is all.”

 

“Bullshit” he snorts, glaring at me as my frown deepens, and I can feel my eyebrows drawing together from the effort. “You're scared we're going to kill you. That isn't healthy baggage to be lugging around, and shit, it's definitely hell on you, remaining our friend when you're scared of us. `Fei, man, you don't have to suffer like that. I'm sure they'll understand.” Their shocked gazes tell me everything, and I stare at my lap, my cheeks heating with shame, my hands trembling from mortification. He didn't. He…he wouldn't…

 

“I'm sorry Wufei, but it had to be said. You're my friend…something more now, but still, my buddy. Just `cos you don't want love doesn't mean I don't have to care about you. And I do, and I know this is hurting you, and what you told me…no, I'm not going to tell them about that, I keep my secrets” he says quietly, as I raise my head to glare at him, feeling that lump growing in my throat again. “You lost…the only stable thing you had, and now you need the support again. I'm not enough for that, and I don't resent it. I'd rather be with you, and be happy, and see you happy then have nothing at all. I don't think I could love anyone, anyway, not the way they want me to. I'm too…” He searches for a word, eyes shuttering as he delves into his past, examining his feelings from all angles. “I'm too damaged. But I care, and I love ya like a friend. That's enough, isn't it?” His eyes rise to meet mine, indigo with pain, and I realise his desperation to explain himself.

 

“Yes…it's enough.” My whisper is quiet, because my throat is nearly closed, and when he smiles there's such sorrow in it I want to hug him to me, make it better. But I can't. He can only do that himself. “Maybe too much. But enough for me and you, no?”

 

He nods, and turns away, and they watch us silently, eyes so big and round and shocked, but also…understanding. An outsider wouldn't understand. To us, Duo just told everything, every single scrap of what he was feeling, how his mind works…nobody outside of our group will ever have that privilege. It goes with the territory of being what we are.

 

“I…died, a little inside, every night that I had to share a bed…with all of you.” The admission burns, and snarls, before it floats away into the air and leaves me feeling cold. “I know it's not real, the suffocating. But it hurts, and I don't know how to stop it. Rather…” I reach forwards, and Duo's hand finds mine, fingers slipping through and then clutching as I look at the wall again. “…I didn't know until I found my boy. He tasted good, made the fear stop. Best of all he wanted me back. Nobody has ever wanted me, before. I…I didn't think anyone could.”

 

His whisper is soft, but everyone stops breathing as it chains itself to the air. “Nataku.”

 

I nod. “Meiran. My parents. My family. They're all gone now…I'm not quite over it Not yet. It happened not so long ago, and the pain's still there, I guess. Krushenada…he didn't kill them personally. But he gave the order.”

 

“You can't put down her sword….until the war is over, until the enemy is dead…so that her fury can die, and her destiny be fulfilled. You can't live until it's over. You carry the burden.”

 

“And it's an honour to carry it for her. I didn't love her, but Gods Duo, it came bloody close.”

 

“How old…how old were you, when your wife died?”

 

Quatre gasps, his hands rising to cover his mouth, his aquamarine eyes staring into mine as my vision turns hazy. I didn't love her. But…it came… Trowa is dead white, shaking, and the look in his eyes…is it pity? Sadness? Heero just gazes at me, and his calmness is a comfort.

 

“Thirteen” I gasp, and then I can't breathe again.