Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Justitia ❯ Chapter 8

Justitia 8: cold- Having no appeal to the senses or feelings

Trowa clenched his hands in his pockets, wishing he was driving just so he could hold on to something. Wufei was sandwiched between them again, face still too pale, eyes cold, unseeing, not even haunted. The memory was gone and with it all the day's work, pushed so far down Trowa knew it would take him days to draw it out again. Not that it was a bad thing…Trowa shuddered as he recalled the way Wufei's knees had just buckled, the way he fought, with no goal in sight, completely blinded by the memory. His complete lack of control told Trowa more than he had ever needed to know about Wufei's unconscious mental state. Enough to know Wufei had not healed at all, had simply bottled it all up and rather literally forgotten it step by step. The scars were evidence it hadn't been some twisted kind of bad dream, but somehow Wufei had managed to convince himself that it hadn't happened the way his brain knew it had. And sooner or later Trowa knew he was going to have to make Wufei accept it had.

He just hoped no one else was around when it happened. He desperately wanted to know exactly who Randolph Kersh had been and he wanted to know every sordid little detail of his life, and he wanted to dig up his grave and murder the guy all over again with his bare hands. Since he couldn't do that, he settled for clenching and unclenching his fists, hand strategically placed so his wrist rubbed again Wufei's, monitoring his pulse, which was far too slow for Trowa's liking. Unusually slow for someone just coming out of shock.

Sally kept stealing glances across at him, but Trowa knew Wufei could see them and refused to meet her gaze, not wanting Wufei to get the wrong impression and close them out along with everything else. He knew Wufei and he knew he was embarrassed and angry with himself, but most of all he knew he was hurting and in the end that was all that mattered to Trowa. So he sat back, shut up and tucked himself in for the long haul.

It was too dark, the storm that had threatened not having hit but snow nonetheless thick in the air, clouding the minimal vision offered by the massive headlights. It took two hours just to reach the Morson ruins and even then they ended up just waiting another hour to see if the snow would clear at all, because there was no way they were going to find anything out there. They would be flat out finding the truck again.

It came as no surprise to Trowa when Wufei eventually nudged him, pushing him toward the door, the look on his face clearly stating that he was not waiting any longer. It also gave Trowa the impression Wufei had some kind of plan, because not even Wufei was so completely absorbed in the mission to just waltz into an almost-blizzard for something that probably wasn't even there.

Sally sensed the move toward action and got out of the truck, torch held firmly in one fist. She was immediately swallowed by the snow and Trowa made sure to keep one hand firmly attached to the back of Wufei's coat as they got out, torches already on and searching in the storm.

Wufei headed east, toward where the laboratories had been on the map Trowa had looked at. Frowning, wondering what Wufei had in mind, Trowa snagged a hand in Sally's coat and let Wufei pull them forward, the combined strength of their torches almost enough to see a while ahead of them clearly.

They entered around of the walls that was still standing and Trowa kicked at the shattered, melted remains of whatever had been inside. Wufei headed for the far wall, where several larger lumps were still resting and Trowa finally realized what he was looking for and headed over to help. Sure enough, the wall had protected most of what was directly on the other side from the brunt of the blast and several computers had survived, the outer shells melted and the monitors shattered, but when they cracked them open the hard drives were relatively in tact. So they took them, and headed for the next lab, repeating the process. Less than a quarter of the computers had survived the blast and of those Trowa judged only a third were retrievable, but it was better than nothing.

Wufei seemed to be working to a pattern, though Trowa could not figure it out as they finally passed the missile silo and into the remains beyond. There were hardly any computers, but Trowa noticed Wufei was paying more attention to these ones and put more effort into looking for anything that might be useful. He found another black safe box and took it with him when they left.

They took their time on the way back, Wufei and Trowa leaving Sally to do the driving and crawling into the back to check out the loot. They discarded more than half the hard drives upon closer inspection and even then Trowa was doubtful a lot of them would be retrievable. They cracked open the safe box he had found and a collection of letters spilled out. Wufei smirked at the pile, reaching out to flick through them. He looked…pleased and Trowa felt a little warmer, knowing he had, to a certain degree, put that look there.

Then the fingers paused and a sound Trowa could only call a whimper escaped Wufei. It was so out of place coming from Wufei that he forgot what they were doing a moment. By the time he remembered Wufei had already pulled one of the letters from its envelope, his eyes skimming from left to right over the dirty page. Trowa grabbed the envelope, wondering why it had caught Wufei's attention when the sender's name caught his eye.

R. Hersh.

There were several other Russian addresses, Trowa noted, and he wondered just how many of them would trigger memories for Wufei. Quietly, he packed the letters back into the box, putting them out of Wufei's direct reach, then he reached out and pulled the page Wufei had down so it was flat on the table.

It was a friendly letter; from one old friend to another. There was nothing overly interesting. Mention of a deal being made, but not what it was, though they probably had the receipt to match the date. Old banter, nothing more. The date was prior to the Russia mission.

Trowa tugged the page away, put it back in its envelope and shut it away with the rest. Wufei did not object, just sitting there and staring at his arm as if he could see the flesh through all the layers he was wearing and Trowa thought he probably could.

He wasn't sure what to say, so he remained quiet, just watching, looking for the signs that would tell him what he should do but there weren't any. Wufei was like an ice statue, everything trapped on the inside, nothing moving without. He had no diea how to make it melt without shattering it to pieces. He idly wondered if Wufei was right; if he wasn't going to break Wufei, and not be able to him back together. He shook that fear aside and focused on the here and now, hoping Sally had enough sense not to butt in.

"Does it hurt?" Trowa reached out and trailed his fingers over the sleeve of Wufei's coat, trying to coax some kind of reaction. Anything to prove that the Wufei he had seen throughout the day was still there.

"No." No weakness. Trowa sighed heavily, withdrawing the hand.

"It hurts, Wufei," he noted, changing tactic. Wufei cocked his head to the side, as if considering this, and then he made a small affirmative sound in the back of his throat. Trowa raised an intrigued brow at that and something occurred to him. But he couldn't be sure unless he pushed it, and he wasn't sure pushing it would be worth the results.

"You can taste it," he said softly and the truck swerved a little at the same time that Wufei's head snapped up, eyes nothing but black holes as they stared at him, furious. But it was a cold fear, not really felt, just acknowledged and it sent shivers through Trowa. He just hoped Sally would keep her mouth shut.

"You can hear him," Trowa murmured and the reaction was instant. Wufei's hands were around his throat, every muscle completely relaxed and at its most deadly as Wufei pressed closer, trying to close the gap with the table between them. Trowa just let him come, not fighting it, hoping Wufei had enough sense to tell them apart; to remember where he was.

"Shut up."

"You can see them," Trowa said softly and the fingers about his throat tightened menacingly. Trowa gasped in a deep breath, hoping it wasn't his last.

"Shut up," Wufei hissed.

"You can…feel them," Trowa gasped as the fingers tightened instantly. Trowa reached out as Wufei got close enough, his own hand feather light as it caressed an ice-cold cheek, tracing the graze. "But you can feel…me…too."

Wufei froze, and too slowly the fingers released and Trowa sucked up the air, not daring to take his hand away from Wufei's cheek, not willing to unlock their gazes. The fingers curled in, clenched tightly, the arm falling in against the body, tight to the stomach in the defensive posture that was becoming so familiar to Trowa and as he went to sit back down, Trowa snagged his hands in Wufei's coat and hauled him bodily over the table, wrapping arms tight about the marshmallow-type figure, trying to sense the body underneath all the layers, to know the state of it all.

"I don't want to," Wufei whispered and Trowa felt the words as if Wufei had snapped his neck instead of letting go.

"I told you Wufei, I don't care what you want." Trowa pulled the beanie off Wufei's head, tangling his hand in the fine black strands of hair, almost satisfied when Wufei didn't pull away because it was a start. He had made a start. It wasn't enough, would probably never be enough, but it was a start.

"God, I wish you would shut up," Wufei groaned and Trowa had to chuckle, because no one had ever told him to shut up before, pulling them closer, letting Wufei let go, while it was dark, letting him be weak, because whether Wufei agreed with him or not Trowa knew it was the right thing to do.

When they reached the base Sally just turned off the engine and sat there, letting them have whatever time they needed and Trowa could have kissed her. When Wufei pulled back, Trowa let him reluctantly, studying what he could see of Wufei's face. No tears, no sign that he cared at all, but the emptiness was gone from the eyes, replaced with…something, he wasn't sure what. Just not the nothing. Awareness, perhaps, or a willingness to at least listen.

Trowa heard a car door opening and closing and knew Sally had left them alone. Wufei shuddered from his daze and sat up completely, grabbing the equipment they had gathered and shoving what he considered salvageable into a bag to carry inside. He opened the back door of the truck, Trowa close behind, but paused.

"It's cold," Wufei said softly, jumping out of the truck, turning to look at him. "It doesn't hurt, it's just cold."

Trowa stood on the back of the truck, just watching Wufei retreat back into the base to their room, and he shook his head sadly, to himself while no one could see. Because if it was only cold now he knew it was going to hurt like hell. When Wufei decided he wanted to feel after all.

Wufei was at the table when Trowa got to the room, already hooking up a hard drive to the laptop. Trowa fished Wufei's second laptop out of his suitcase and plugged it in, putting it next to Wufei before tracking down their boots. He dumped Wufei's in his lap before leaning over to slip his own on.

"Put them on, Wufei." And Wufei did, making Trowa blink and wonder what odd kink it was that Wufei kept agreeing to everything he said, but he didn't argue. If Wufei was willing to listen Trowa was not about to shut up.

There was data. Lots of it. More was salvageable than Trowa had expected and they immediately began uploading it to the Preventers server. Trowa started counting down the minutes and had not made it to seven when his laptop beeped, communication request made. He answered it, making sure the laptop's camera was just out of Wufei's range.

"Heero."

"Trowa," Heero nodded in greeting. "Interesting info. Where'd you get it?"

"Hard drives from the wreckage." Heero just grunted, not asking anything more about it and leaning over to type something on his computer. Trowa watched him carefully, unsure if he even knew Wufei was on the case, not sure if he dared bring it up because he wasn't sure who would react the worst. He was almost tempted to bring it up just to find out but refrained when he noticed Wufei was back in his odd little defensive posture, arm tucked into the stomach, even his feet tucked up under his legs as he practically knelt on the chair. His mouth was so tight it looked glued shut. Trowa decided it definitely wasn't a good idea.

"Is there more to this?" Heero typed the file code he was looking for and sent it and Wufei's fingers flew over the keys, running a trace on the hard drive he was working through. He shrugged when it came up blank and Trowa ran the same trace on the other laptop. It came up with the matching id and he sent it off, amused at the way Heero was frowning, apparently confused by whatever he was reading.

They hooked up all the hard drives in a long line and set a program to upload them to Heero one at a time, then Trowa ended the call and stood to stand over Wufei who was still fiddling with the program while playing a game of minesweeper.

"Bed. Now."

Wufei looked at him with the most damnable frown on his face, opened his mouth to say something, apparently thought better of it, and he close the game, got up and went to his bed. Trowa shook his head at the weirdness of having Chang Wufei do whatever he was told, decided it was probably a delusion of his own tiredness and went to his own bed, shedding layers all the way there until he was just in thermals and his jeans. He didn't bother with anything else, hauling back to covers and settling in, realizing he had no idea where the light switch was and hoping Wufei thought of it.

Sure enough, a minute later the light flicked off and the rustle of blankets told Trowa all he needed to know. He looked across the room and watched the fish swimming across the laptop screen and wondered where the hell Wufei had got such a dumb-ass screensaver. It was boring enough to send him to sleep and his last thought was maybe that had been the point of it in the first place.

He woke to erratic breaths, hitched and desperate, but he didn't move. He simply lay there, listening as Wufei fell out of the bed and stumbled to the bathroom, losing what Trowa could only assume was dinner. There was no guilt as he listened to the dry heaving that followed, at least not the kind of guilt that had brought him south to start with. Rather, he felt sad, nervous and more than a little pleased.

He heard the tap, listened to the water being guzzled and wondered what it tasted like. Was it just vomit, or was it blood?

In time he got up, padded quietly to the bathroom to find Wufei on the floor, sound asleep, face against the cold tiles. Sighing heavily, Trowa leaned down, picked him up and took him back to bed, wondering just how many nights Wufei had slept on his bathroom floor. He didn't really want to know.

He couldn't get back to sleep, so he watched the fish while the files transferred, not really wanting to talk to Heero despite his desire to talk to someone. Anyone. In the end he booted up a request, checked that Wufei really was dead to the world, and sent a request to Une.

She didn't pick up for fifteen minutes, and when she did she blinked at him, squinting a little.

"Trowa?"

"Yeah. It's night. Sorry. Wufei's asleep so I'm not turning on the light."

Une just nodded, waving her hand as she pushed aside whatever she had been working on and sat back in her chair, apparently taking the call as an excuse to relax. He thought she looked rather pleasant when she relaxed, took off the glasses…He decided he was very tired.

"Is he okay?"

"No."

Une just sighed and nodded as if she had known that would be his answer, and he supposed she had, she just hadn't known what to do about it. Not surprising when he considered her past.

"How's Marie?"

"Upset," Trowa said uneasily, not wanting to make Une regret letting her come, but Une just nodded again, as if it all made perfect sense, which it probably did, but Trowa didn't really want to think about it.

"Do you really think you can fix this Trowa?" Une was looking straight at him and Trowa could have sworn she was actually there, right in front of him, not hundreds of miles away. It was almost…comforting. Yes, definitely tired. He just nodded, frowning. Everyone kept asking him that. It was getting on his nerves. A little faith could go a long way.

"What do you need?"

Trowa leant back in his chair, thinking hard, not really knowing what he needed. He had to try and keep Wufei's life as close to normal as possible, whatever that was, while still giving himself the time and space to shake him up without getting someone seriously injured.

"Get us back to work, then give me a week. No missions. Give him something else to do, keep him busy, but let me have him."

Une merely raised a brow at that but nodded her agreement.

"We found a box of letters," Wufei noted, waving the box near the camera in the screen's light. "There was one from R. Hersh. Mind telling me what it's all about?"

"I'm waiting for Duo to confirm, but I have a feeling that secret room has our missing atomic bomb," Une said idly, waving her hand casually. "We suspected they had that sort of weaponry last year when we sent the original team in to look for it, but they got caught…"

So they sent in Wufei.

"The Russia report doesn't mention anything about a bomb," Trowa noted, wondering if it really didn't make sense or if he was just tired.

"We didn't send Wufei after the bomb, we sent it after the bastards who had the bomb. We had hoped to get them before they made the transaction with China, but te bought something in the interim between when Wufei was captured and when Hersh was killed.

And something finally clicked in Trowa's mind.

"That's why you didn't just give the mission to Wufei. You offered it to everyone but Chang, and then settled for letting him tag along with Sal in charge."

"I knew he would put the pieces together, yes," Une noted coldly.

Trowa almost asked why when he realized he already knew. Une was just nodding at him knowingly. Because if Wufei found out he had been too late he would consider it a failure and the entire thing would become pointless. As it was his pain had some kind of meaning, however weak that was, but if the transaction had taken place anyway…

Trowa rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to wake up but knowing it wouldn't make any difference. There was no easy answer. He doubted there was any answer at all.

There was shifting, the rustle of cloth and Trowa looked around to see a shadow sit up and move away from the bed. Wufei dumped himself in the chair beside Wufei, blinking the sleep from his eyes, a slightly pinched look to his face. Trowa wondered what little horror had woken him this time.

"Good morning Wufei," Une greeted cheerily as Trowa tilted the camera a little. She even wiggled her fingers. It was scary and Trowa had to restrain himself from disconnecting the call as Wufei just stared at the screen.

"I just love it when they're docile," Une noted, idly tracing patterns on the arm of her chair. She no longer looked nice to Trowa. More like a rabid wolf. Wufei just yawned at her and Trowa had the impression this was not a rare sort of conversation. With Wufei reporting to Une with no go-between it probably happened every second day.

The laptop's timers suddenly went off, the uploads complete and Wufei unplugged them, tossing the now useless black boxes in the bin by the door. Trowa couldn't help but notice he was favoring his leg again and finally noticed he was not favoring the leg with the gunshot wounds on it. Frowning, he ended the call with Une and waited until Wufei sat down again before trying to broach the subject.

"Is that…the leg that…" He wasn't sure how to say it without triggering some kind of negative response but Wufei nodded tightly and before he could argue, Trowa knelt down and pulled off the soft boot, lifting the heel up in the light of the laptop.

The scar across the back of the ankle was hideous, crooked and dark. He hadn't noticed it before and wondered how he could missed it. Wufei winced when he touched it and Trowa realized the nerves must have shifted position. They probably wouldn't settle for a few months yet, and even then there would be twinges of pain both physical and mental.

"How'd you fix it?"

Wufei twitched at the question, his ankle pulling back in Trowa's grip, but Trowa massaged the skin gently until he settled again. He looked up to find Wufei gripping the seat hard enough to break something, his white knuckles visible even in the dark.

"I had to pull the tendon back together and sew it," Wufei ground out. Trowa gaped, in the dark so Wufei could not see him, not having expected that. He had assumed Wufei had found some kind of doctor on his journey and reminded himself that when Chang Wufei was concerned one should never make assumptions. He inspected the scar again, fingers probing the muscles beneath and he decided Wufei had done a rather spectacular job, not that he expected otherwise. He didn't ask anything more about it, just made a mental note to ask Sally what they should do get the nerves to settle back into their correct place.

He slipped the boot back on with more care than he had removed it and let Wufei settle it back on the floor.

"They've nearly got everything figured out and they think they found the bomb. Duo's out confirming the location. I think we'll have a day off tomorrow."

Wufei didn't really seem to be listening, having opened minesweeper again. Trowa just shook his head at the small obsession and opened Packman; he had a long way to go it he was to catch up to their skill level. Marie had kicked his arse and she insisted she had never beaten Wufei.

In time the sky outside turned slightly pale and Trowa left to go find the kitchen. He doubted Wufei even saw him leave, the way he was eyeing the laptop as if it were his worst enemy. He was almost tempted to hide the katana, but restrained himself.

The kitchen turned out to be a fair walk away and he understood why it took Sally and Marie so long to go there and back. He grabbed two bowls and the small pot of porridge set aside for them as well as a flask of hot chocolate and headed back, wondering if Wufei would even eat it. After last night he probably wasn't too thrilled at the thought of food. And it really didn't taste good. There had to be vitamins galore mixed in the slop.

Wufei was still playing when he got back and Trowa took a moment to just soak up the sight, amused, as he turned the lights up a little. Wufei was kneeling on the chair again, scarred arm folded in his lap, other arm on the table, hand on the mouse. He was tilted sideways slightly, head cocked to one side, hair loose and sticking out in all directions, dressed in nothing but thermal underwear and Ug boots. He looked like the eighteen year old kid he was and Trowa smiled to see it, wondering how often Une got to see this Chang Wufei; the one Marie knew so well.

He put the tray down on the table and reached out to close the laptop, effectively ending the game. Wufei scowled at him but didn't argue and Trowa passed him a bowl. He didn't argue with that either and Trowa ended up watching all through breakfast, asking for the most mundane things just to see if Wufei would pass them. He stopped when Wufei actually got up to fetch the katana for him, figuring it had gone far enough.

"Why do you do that?"

Wufei looked at him, a little confused before he looked at the junk gathered around Trowa and seemed to realize he had collected it all.

"You told me to," Wufei said simply, shrugging as he finished off breakfast.

"But…why?" Trowa repeated, not getting it.

Wufei sighed, looking slightly exasperated, but he put down his spoon and looked straight at Trowa.

"Because you don't give me a choice," he said clearly, purposefully.

Trowa made to reply, but Wufei was already turning back to the game so he grabbed the dishes and headed to the sink, thinking about it as he washed up, not really liking what he came to see.

Wufei feared choice because it was the core of his weakness. He hadn't chosen death; he'd chosen revenge. And he…regretted the choice. Trowa's hands shook as he finished the washing up, marching over to Wufei's bag and grabbing two jumpers, figuring he had to start somewhere. He shoved them in Wufei's face, forcing him to look. When he was sure he had Wufei's undivided and rather confused attention, he stuck his face between the two jumpers until they were eyes to eye.

"I don't care what you want," Trowa said softly, pulling back and holding up the two jumpers again. "Choose. You only get to wear one."

And the cold would be his punishment if he chose the wrong one.