Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ In One Day ❯ In One Day ( Chapter 1 )

Title - In One Day
Author - trowacko
Rating - PG13
Warnings - introspection, nostalgia
Disclaimers - I do not own Gundam Wing in any way, nor do I make a claim to. No profit, no harm done.



"That's disgusting."

The sentence stops before it even ended. A lot of things in this world are disgusting at some point and a lot of things stop being so after a while. I remember when girls were disgusting and they stopped being that way for a lot of my friends except for me. They didn't stay disgusting, exactly - I just became indifferent to them. Back when our crowd made throwing up noises at girls, I stood back and laughed. Come to think of it, it's a wonder no one else caught on sooner than college. In retrospect, that naivete amuses me - theirs and mine. It's amusing to think of the past and see things so clearly. Perhaps it only takes dancing with death and waking up in the hospital for such clarity to come.

"What are you grinning about, Trowa?" Duo asks and shoves his hands into his pockets. Classic gesture of defensiveness; I'd love nothing more than to call him on it, but pointing out that someone is defensive has a way of making them even more so. I did end up answering his question though.

"Remember in sixth grade when we ditched school to go fishing because that's what guys do?"

"Yeah," he replies after a short pause. I can see from his guarded expression that he was waiting for me to bait him into some trap from which he would be even more pissed off even though he wasn't really pissed off. He's just confused. And you know what? So was I.

"We all knew we'd catch hell from Heero's dad when he found out we took his fishing rods. But we took them anyway because that's what kids do. We got ourselves into more trouble than I can possibly remember, and we almost always did it knowing we'd get in trouble. I think it was the best part of growing up the way we did. Knowing how far you can really go.

"So we stole these poles and we trespassed on Wufei's clan's property just to get to the fishing pond. We spent three hours getting muddy and dirty trying to just catch a few fish. Only to find out that the fish in that pond were all carnivorous, and that's why the bait never worked on them."

"Gods, I hated those fish after that," Duo shook his head with a half-grin. "We cursed them and called them stupid even though it was our fault for not knowing--" He stops and regards me with the narrowed gaze I didn't want to see.

Funny. I didn't think I was going to make a point with that story. I only wanted to bring up a memory we'd remember with the fond nostalgia that old friends invariably do throughout their lives. By the look on his face, he doesn't seem to have the same train of thought. Can't blame the guy though. He went through half his childhood playing with a best friend that he was comfortable seeing in the shower room, or dressing in front of in the morning when we had sleepovers. Now I make him uncomfortable because he knows I've seen other men naked, have probably had sex with them, and remembers that I've seen him naked too. What do I tell you, Duo? What will make better?

"The fish were beautiful, yeah. I hated them just as much, too. Heero's dad and the clan didn't bother punishing us after we came back empty-handed and looking pitiful. It was great, though. We had a lot of fun. That's the best part of the whole thing - we always had fun together."

There's no reply. The silence between us becomes unbearable. It takes a huge effort not to keep looking up at his dazed expression. The ache building in my chest creeps up my throat until it feels as though I must choke or simply die. I don't want this rift to grow anymore than it has done and there's really only one way to stop it.

"Duo," I cough, swallowing back the pain, "I think I better rest for now, I'm very tired."

A man who was once one of my best friends walks to just inside the door to my room. A friend who was once my brother turns back to glance at the seat he just vacated instead of looking directly at me. In his stance, I saw a measure of the past, and what I could expect of my future. Hope and failure wrapped up in a stony expression and it was all meant for me. Part of me bitterly equates his lack of acceptance to the same hostility from a bunch of drunks who put me here in the first place. Oh, I want to hate him as much as others hated me - for no good reason. I want so much to hate him, but I love him too. He has to know that, doesn't he? Part of me assures me that he does. Another part savagely stabs me with the belief that I can never again tell him I love him because he'll get that same disgusted look on his face when he uttered the two words still ringing in my mind from two minutes ago.

"Who was he?" he asks in a tone I can't quite place. I want to lie, I want to hide, but neither is possible right now. I only have the truth and it doesn't quite feel like it's going to set me free.

"Another student," I reply tiredly. I don't want to tell him, but if I don't, then I've lied to both of us. Or all three of us. "We had some classes together and got along pretty well. We didn't see each other for long, though it seemed long enough for a few to justify beating the crap out of me."

"What was his name?"

"What does it matter?" I retort. The guy's over, he's gone from my life. That other students even knew about me is a small mystery to me, but not a huge one. I'm not ashamed of who I am, though I sometimes have to be careful of what I show. Now that I think about it, that's the disgusting part. The hiding. Like what I'm doing right now in a way, but... I don't know anymore. If my lover's name doesn't matter, than what does? Ha! Even Duo wouldn't be able to answer that one.

He cocks his head in that classic 'confused Duo' way he's been doing since grade school. "It's really a simple question, you know."

Sure it is. In another reality, maybe. Now I really want him to leave before I just crumble. All the stereotypes of what guys should be collide with who I am. Like Duo standing in the doorway, confused and upset at me who suddenly doesn't make any sense to him anymore. We're mirrors of what 'should' be and an unknown reality. It's kinda funny in a not so funny way.

"Sometimes simple questions don't have simple answers, Duo." My hand covers my eyes so I don't have to see his expression anymore.

"What should I tell the others?" he asks quietly.

You're a pitiful man, Trowa Barton. Such a pitiful man. The rest of the bunch might not feel the same disgust, but they might, I realize. What do you do, boy that once had no name or past? What do you wager on hope?

"Tell them I died," I reply just as quietly.

Could I have been more pathetic? Somewhere in the pit of whatever was left of my soul says yes. Oh, if only I had died, maybe they would have remembered their best friend, not the guy they used to know who ended up getting beaten up for being a fag. The need to cry is building faster than Duo is leaving and I just want him gone, not a dark silhouette in the doorway.

For the first time since I told him how I ended up in the hospital, Duo finally cracks a smile. "Very fucking funny, Trowa." And then he was gone.

When he arrived, he was the one confused. Now, sitting alone in a hospital room with tubes running into both arms and an unflattering gown that all but makes me blush when I limp my way to the bathroom, I'm the one confused. It doesn't matter though. Not right now. Not when I just want to cry and blame everyone for being here in the first place. Tired, hungry, and alone, I'm left with thoughts I'd rather not acknowledge and questions I'd rather not answer. Nonetheless, my body's not in the best of shape right now and I manage to drift into an uneasy slumber.

Trowa.

For a few seconds I'm stuck wandering around in my dream before I realize that it's not something in my dream talking to me, but someone next to the hospital bed. A hand is wrapped up in mine, its weight light, and its touch warm and comforting. By the callouses at the fingertips, I highly doubt I'd need more than one guess as to the owner.

"Heero."

The man I expected. The pained smile stretched across his lips I do not. I don't mind, though. I'm just glad he's here.

"How are you doing?" he asks, that funny smile seemingly stuck to his lips.

"Better," I answer after mentally gauging my body once more. "Strained muscles, bruises. Nothing a strapping young man can't bounce back from in no time, right?"

"You're hurt pretty badly," he replies bluntly.

There's too many things running around my head, and none of them slow enough for me to just grasp. Thanks a bunch, Heero.

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"I'm sorry," he whispers, leaning his head against our joined hands.

"Don't say that."

He laughs; a bit bitterly, but not entirely so.

"Remember in high school when we thought we'd be all bold and try out for football?" he asks and I can all but see his lopsided grin in the shadows. "Two practices later I nailed the defensive lineman who was flying right at you and set a record for the longest slide in history."

Us and football - it was a failed experiment, but not completely a waste. I have to laugh at the memory.

"It would've been a great play if he wasn't on your side. It was a great idea, though not one of the best ones to have worked out. At least basketball was good to us, right?"

"That's life, isn't it? You try, you fail, you try again." He finally looks up, his eyes thankfully dry, but that damned smile is still stuck to his lips.

"One should never give up." The answer is standard to his comment, one that was all but our creed in our last year in high school. The world was grand and large. All of us little peons flooding into college and adulthood would amount to something. Some good, some bad, but the promise of never giving up had been a constant drive.

"Have you ever given up, Trowa?"

Out in the hall, I hear the muted steps of some staff people walking the other way. Outside the window, the sun has started its final descent and twilight chases it. Out there in that great wide world, time is still ticking on. Out there, people are traveling home, looking forward to dinner with friends and family or the company of the TV. In here, time doesn't even exist.

"I don't know."

The chair creaks as he stands up and holds my hand in both of his. The smile that's been plaguing me finally cracks into something I recognize. Now he's simply Heero. It's confusing, but not the same way that it was confusing with Duo.

"Get better soon, will you?"

If I have to, Heero, I will. I nod. He nods back and finally lets go of my hand. The air's cooler to it without his warmth. I can feel a chill over my whole body, but I'm not about to ask him to hold my hand again. The funny thing about the whole thing was that I didn't feel attracted to him, exactly. I'm just... glad.

"Take care, Heero."

"You too," he smiles. He stands where Duo did, except he's looking right at me. For the first time since Duo left, I feel good. Hopeful, even.

Few people go by my door and fewer look in. On some faces, I see pity, on others indifference. Neither really bothers me at all. Those are not the people who matter to me, and what they see may not really be who I am. I'm no monster, no abomination - hell, I'm barely a man in the wide world. When I first woke up, I was... I don't know. Different. Right now, I feel a sense of peace I don't think I could have on my own. When the nurse walked in to see if I needed something to help me sleep, I gladly declined despite how much my whole body sang in pain. A boy went out for a drink last night and woke up wrapped in fear that could not be contained. A day later, the man who faced a painful recovery would do so with a sense of hope he dared not embrace before. With that alone, I closed my eyes and waited for a new day.

*just because it comes from the mind of a wacko, doesn't necessarily mean it's insane*