Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Brought Into Focus ❯ Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing.

 

A/N: Hm… sorry it took so long to update this. I wanted to finish Didn't Mean It first, but now I should be updating this a little more regularly.

 

Chapter 2

 

Heero heard Duo's body hit the ground with a sickening thud, and watched as it began to roll down the steep hill. The roof was actually not that high up; it was the rocky hill that worried Heero. Slipping into what Duo had often called his “Perfect Soldier Mode”, he stopped thinking and went after Duo. He lowered himself over the edge of the roof so that he hung from it, and then let go. A jolt ran through his body when he landed, making his legs crumple. He pulled himself up anyway and began to run after Duo.

 

“Heero! What was that noise?” Quatre's voice yelled after him. They must have heard Duo hit the ground from inside, thought Heero, but he didn't stop to let Quatre know what had happened.

 

Heero tried his best to avoid the piles of loose rocks that littered the path. Most of them had been knocked out of the way by Duo's body, which wasn't much comfort. He heard another crash about fifty feet ahead of him and cursed. He sprinted with all his might, and finally reached Duo's limp body where it lay in a crumpled heap against a large boulder. His bangs were matted from the blood that trickled out from a cut on the side of his head, and his clothes were badly torn. What looked like the most serious energy was his left leg. The skin above the knee had been absolutely shredded. Trying not to think about it, Heero dropped to his knees, and pulled Duo into his arms. Swiftly checking his pulse, he reassured himself that Duo was alive and breathing, though unconscious. Heero lifted Duo's slight frame and carried him as quickly as he could without jostling his body too badly.

 

Heero heard someone gasp as he brought Duo's bloodied body into the church. He was dimly aware that the others were rushing to call 911, but his attention was focused on Duo. He began to shake as he looked at his battered body. A hundred different emotions attacked his mind, and it was all he could do to stay standing. He leaned towards Duo and muttered, “Don't you dare die on me, Shinigami.”

 

The ambulance arrived quickly, its strain of wails shattering the silence. Heero watched numbly as Duo was taken away from him. Although he tried to insist on riding in the ambulance with him, Wufei calmly guided him to the car, where he was buckled in and driven to the hospital.

 

The hospital was nothing more than a seemingly endless wait that Heero was forced to endure. He sat in a sort of disbelieving stupor for what seemed like forever, waiting for the trauma doctors to call him and the other pilots in to see Duo. Quatre sat in Trowa's lap, his face buried against Trowa's shoulder. Wufei had been looking at the same page of an old magazine for nearly twenty minutes, and Heero was staring blankly at the one picture adorning the white wall in front of him. It was of an ugly girl holding a flute in one arm and a teddy bear in the other. He tried to concentrate on the girl's features to distract himself, but the memory of Duo's bruised face kept reappearing in his mind. Finally, after about an hour and a half, on of the doctors came out to talk to them.

 

“Are all of you with Mr. Maxwell?” asked a man in his late forties, whose nametag identified him as Dr. Morris. The four pilots stood at the same time, and Quatre nodded.

 

“I'm one of the doctors who has helped treat him, and it seems that there's good news and bad news,” said Dr. Morris. “I'd like you to step into my office to discuss it.

 

“Well, let's get it over with,” Dr. Morris continued. “The good news is that Mr. Maxwell will be fine. Overall, he has maintained some mild injuries, the worst of which is his left knee. He won't be able to walk very well for a month or two. The most serious injury is a deep cut in the back of his head. The bad news is that, where that cut is, there are also some damaged nerves. It's nothing permanent,” he added quickly, seeing the alarmed looks on the pilots' faces, “but his memory may be affected for a little while.”

 

“What are you saying?” asked Quatre shakily.

 

“To put it bluntly, Mr. Maxwell has lost his memory. All of it. I won't go into details, but it seems like the cluster of cells that holds most of his memories is severely bruised. However, as it heals, he should be able to recover most of his memories. We have no idea how long it will take, however, and we think that he might need to be taught how to do some basic skills.”

 

All four pilots stared at the doctor in a bit of shock. As they recovered, three heads swiveled to look at Heero.

 

He blinked a couple times, and then seemed to realize they were all staring at him. Quatre spoke up. “You're going to want to do that, right Heero? I mean, you're already with him all the time anyway. We'll help out of course, but…” Quatre trailed off and looked at Trowa hesitantly.

 

Something clicked in Heero's brain. Trowa and Quatre had just gotten married. Of course they wanted to spend time alone over the next few weeks. The shock caused by Duo's injuries must be making him slow; how else could he have forgotten? Heero glanced back at the doctor. “I will be taking full responsibility for Duo's recovery. When you say that he's forgotten everything, what exactly do you mean?”

 

“Well,” said Dr. Morris, taking a deep breath, “for one thing, he won't remember any of you. He also might not know basic functions such as how to talk or even walk. Since he has yet to wake up, we aren't yet sure of the extent of the damage. Whatever he has forgotten though, the more he thought about it, the quicker the memories will come back. So, his ability to speak should come back fairly quickly, as will his mobility.”

 

Heero's mind was swimming. How could he handle talking to a Duo that didn't remember anything? He wouldn't even be Duo, at least, not right away. Stop, Heero scolded himself. You're doing no good by worrying. He might not have even forgotten as much as the doctors think. Heero looked up at Dr. Morris, nodded once and said, “Understood. May we see him now?”

 

Dr. Morris agreed and led the pilots into Duo's room. He exited quickly, saying to alert a nurse if anything went wrong. Heero pulled his chair up to Duo's bedside, and the others followed suit. They all carefully took in his appearance. There were bandages running up the side of his face, and most of the blood had been cleaned out of his hair. The hospital gown that had replaced his ruined clothes revealed arms that were covered with long cuts, though none looked too deep. The blankets of his bed covered his legs, but Heero had seen what had happened to his knee, and he winced to think of how bad the damage was.

 

“You okay, Yuy?” asked Wufei.

 

“Hn.”

 

“Do you think you could tell us what happened up there?” Heero froze for a moment, remembering the events of the rooftop. My fault, his mind whispered, but he shoved the thought down. He told the story to his friends, his eyes occasionally wandering up to look at Duo's small frame.

 

“Oh, Heero,” whispered Quatre once he was done, his eyes brimming with tears. “Will you be able to handle this? I mean, I'm not doubting your ability, but I think that it might be too hard on you emotionally.”

 

Heero looked down at his hands resting in his lap. “I… I want to be there… when he remembers.”

 

The others nodded silently, and turned to wait for Duo to wake up.

 

 

Reviews are greatly appreciated and inspire me to update faster.