Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Justitia ❯ Chapter 10

Justitia 10: pain- suffering or distress.

Trowa unbuckled his belt and edged his way out the door, stretching the kinks out of his body as he got his first look at Faraday base. The had escaped the edge of the storm about an hour ago, reaching Faraday as the sun was smudging the skyline, hitting the massive bergs all about the base and sending shards of rainbow refractions all over the small valley.

Wufei landed in the snow at his side, yawning widely, blinking at the light before he reached up to help Marie get down. Sally came around to join them just as the door opened on the side of one of the sprawling buildings and a man came out to greet them.

"Agent Barton?"

Trowa stepped forward and greeted the man, who seemed more than a little relieved to see them. Trowa understood why when another figure emerged from the base, rugged up in more layers than he thought possible, damnable smile permanently in place on that smug face.

He couldn't keep his own small smile from coming out play as he embraced Quatre Winner.

"What are you doing here? Your wife kick you out of the bedroom again?"

Quatre laughed at that, the sound clean and crisp in the cool air.

"Une told me to come and pick you and your cargo up."

Blinking, Trowa decided he really did not want to know how Une had known they were going to be at Faraday that morning. Not that he minded; he was more than ready to leave. After last night he wanted to get back to the office, to a nice cushy week of desk work where he could poke and prod Wufei as much as he liked without fearing the guy would be shot in the head from behind. Shuddering at the memory, and the mere recollection of Wufei's means of dealing with it, Trowa led Quatre into the truck and told him everything they needed to take with them.

It was a morning of hauling crates from one place to another, but Marie at some point decided she didn't mind Quatre and they were soon lightening the dull mood, passing odd jokes Trowa was not sure he understood the punch line of but could not find any reason not to laugh at. He kept one eye on Wufei the whole time, watching as he slowed down, as his face started to show signs of discomfort and then pain but he did not interfere, also noticing that Wufei started taking the lighter loads, slowing his pace, compensating for his own weaknesses.

"What's going on?"

Trowa turned to find Quatre at his side, eyes narrowed in Wufei's direction but attention directed almost wholly at Trowa.

"Nothing."

Quatre just snorted at that and shook his head.

"I'll find out sooner or later," Quatre waved his hand, eyes following after Wufei as Marie helped him carry her suitcase. Trowa doubted very much that Quatre would ever find out exactly what was going on. He might learn the facts, the cold hard truths, but he would never know what was going on; would never see it well enough to truly grasp the whole. Because Wufei would never let him. Because Quatre would, of course, give him a choice.

"Duo's throwing you a party tomorrow night. I would not suggest missing it."

Trowa started at that but by the time he turned to argue with Quatre the blonde was gone, climbing into the shuttle and talking to the pilot. Trowa just groaned, watching Wufei and Sally grab the last of their things. He wasn't sure there was any way on earth or colony to get Wufei to go to that party with him, but he as about to find out very soon.

They thanked the scientist from Faraday and boarded the shuttle, which left almost immediately. Marie sat beside Wufei, a laptop on her lap as they started up online Packman. Trowa watched them annihilate everyone online for a few hours before moving to the back of the shuttle where Quatre and Sally were talking in hushed tones.

"She won't tell you either," Trowa said softly and Quatre actually sniffed at him. Sally just laughed, making room for him to join them.

"They're okay?"

Trowa shrugged, not really knowing the answer to that, and not caring. So long as they were in his hands; in his care, it did not matter to him because he knew that eventually the answer would be yes.

"Oh, come on," Quatre whined, shaking his head as he leant back in his chair. "Sally in mother hen mode is almost expected, but Trowa? That's like…a non-event or something. And Mother-Henning on Wufei is…that's just abnormal! You have to tell me!"

Sally and Trowa shared a look, both completely aware Quatre had no idea just how much he didn't want to know. They both shrugged, leaning back in their seats.

"You'll have to ask Une," Sally replied easily. "But she'll tell you to ask Wufei."

"And he won't tell you," Trowa added. Quatre looked completely stumped, as he should because Trowa didn't really want anyone to know Wufei's secret for several reasons. One, the guilt. He was attached to his friends and didn't want them to feel what he was feeling. Two, Wufei would reject any try at friendship they might make as signs of pity. Three, Wufei didn't need them to know. The last was most important to Trowa because for once Wufei's wants and needs were in agreement.

The trip went easily enough, filling Quatre in on the mission and telling him about Antarctica, Trowa surprising himself when he came up with several things he really liked about the place. It was, after all, terribly beautiful, and a force of nature in its own right and it was where he had learnt the truth and that perhaps mattered most of all.

The connecting flight was fast; Quatre's private jet getting them halfway across the world in a quarter the usual time. There was a nice black van waiting for them when they landed that made Wufei groan and Trowa chuckle. He knew immediately that Wufei thought them as stupid as he himself did. Everyone knew a black, unmarked van with ridiculous number plates meant government. Every criminal within a mile radius must just run when they saw one of the damned things.

Trowa didn't pay much attention to the luggage, letting the men do their job and unload it into the van. Instead, he moved to Wufei and Marie who were arguing about something to do with a game that involved a fish tank and feeding fish that he really didn't want to know about. Apparently Marie had let their fish die and they had lost points and it had taken them too long to get the octopus and…

Trowa chuckled, their conversation halting at the sound. He pushed them toward the van, making sure they bothered to put on belts before Marie leant over the back of her seat, glaring at Wufei and launching back into her rant, because obviously it was her fault because Wufei had been the one to choose the snail over the seahorse. Whatever that meant.

It was a rather long drive to Headquarters. Trowa wondered if he should invest in some new duck tape specifically for sealing Marie's mouth shut. She had never talked so much when he was with her, but apparently she relaxed completely around Wufei and really let loose. Trowa thought that was a bit of an understatement.

No one was there to meet them when they arrived, so they hauled the boxes into the foyer and then dumped them there. Quatre waved apologetically as he headed upstairs to see Une and tell her he was back, but no one minded, taking the time to start dragging all the boxes into the stairwell.

Trowa was more than surprised when the archive clerks all came rushing up the stairs and started grabbing boxes and hauling them down to sub-level seven. He wondered how often they helped Wufei clean up after a mission and if they had been told to help by Une or if they did it because they wanted to. After seeing the way the one archivist he had met looked at Wufei and smiled as she headed downstairs Trowa guessed they did it because they wanted to.

They managed to get everything down to the main corridor at sub-seven and they just left it there, not seeing any need to cart it to the actual office if they didn't need it; no one was going to be tripping over it where it was. Trowa grabbed Sally's hand and dragged her further down the corridor to see the painting. She wasn't as surprised as he had expected, just nodding as if in agreement.

"He finally painted it," she noted. Trowa idly wondered how much Sally knew about the girl in her field with her flowers. Enough, he thought. She knew enough. If she wasn't surprised by the mural, one look at Wufei's office was enough to make up for it. Marie was already at the desk, booting everything back up, sealing off the uploads and putting them on a desktop for Wufei.

Wufei walked in just as the phone rang and he connected the call impatiently, glaring at the damn thing. Trowa restrained the laughter threatening to spill at the sight, knowing Wufei fully expected that to be Une with a mission.

"Chang fucking Wufei, where the bloody hell is your mother fucking office? I have been trying to dump this shit on your desk all bloody afternoon! No one, and I mean no one, knows where it is!" Duo glared at them all, waving a rather large stack of paperwork that Trowa knew would take them days to wade through. He grinned at the very sight of it.

"Did you ask Une?" Trowa asked quietly and Duo…deflated. Sally laughed at him. Hard. Duo turned the most fascinating shade of red.

"Just leave it at the security desk in the foyer. I'll go get it in a while."

Duo looked at Wufei, completely stumped, and Trowa wondered if Wufei would ever tell them exactly where he had been hiding all this time. He hoped not, because it was far too fun seeing that look on Maxwell's face. Besides, Duo would turn it into a game of cat and mouse until he cracked the puzzle.

Another call came through and Wufei connected it with a hint of annoyance. Trowa waved to Une on the vid-phone, noticing the office was empty and assuming Quatre had left already.

"Don't touch that work until tomorrow," she said sternly. "Go home. Get some rest. I'll get the archivists to catalogue everything you bought in." And she hung up, leaving them all to blink at the empty screen. Marie was the first to move, giving Wufei a brief hug before heading for the door.

"Thanks for the holiday Trowa, it was a blast!" Trowa rolled his eyes as she skipped off. Sally gave them both a stern glance and Trowa knew she wanted to haul Wufei up to medical and give him a full examination but he just shook his head minutely and knew she understood. She sighed, not liking it, but she left without any further argument.

"I want you in my office 9am in the morning, Chang." Neither of them dared to argue with her.

Trowa just stood, looking down at Wufei in his chair, trying to decide what he should do when he realized he didn't have to decide. Smirking he leaned down to rest a hand on each arm rest, leaning in until his nose was almost touching Wufei's; until he had that undivided attention.

"My house or yours. Choose."

There was a flicker of surprise, a wallop of fear and doubt and then that spark of anger, that Trowa dared know his weakness; dared challenge what was holding him together. But Trowa just stayed there, waiting, listening to the not-quite panicked little gasps.

"Hurry up, Wufei. I don't want to sleep in your office."

Wufei turned his head to the side, exhaling softly and Trowa saw the flash of annoyance that he had given in; proven he was weak. It made him want to stop, to take it back and let Wufei be strong but he didn't. He waited, knowing it was the only way.

"Yours," Wufei finally said softly and Trowa pulled back immediately, grabbing Wufei's shoulder and pulling him up. They didn't take anything with them. Trowa was amazed to find his car in the garage and wondered who had driven it back from the airport.

It was a quiet trip to his apartment in which Trowa realized he didn't even know where Wufei lived. He had a phone number, certainly, but he could not recall ever seeing an address. Next time, he resolved to make sure Wufei chose his own place. Maybe. He found he rather liked the idea of Wufei staying at his place where he could keep an eye on him.

They trudged up the stairs to the third floor. Trowa watched, studying Wufei as he walked in, dark eyes scanning the rooms quickly, taking it all in. It was a sparse apartment, with minimal furniture and maximum floor space. The walls were decorated with the occasional photo or memento from the circus but Wufei's gaze flickered over them quickly until it fell on the picture on top of the television.

It was the end of the first war, before the Mariemeia incident, and they were all standing on the Sweeper's ship with Howard. Duo was trying to pull Heero off to one side. Quatre was talking to Howard, Wufei was standing off to one side, and Trowa…Trowa was right behind him, keeping an eye out for all of them.

Wufei went to step forward, as if he wanted a closer look, but he stopped mid stride and stopped himself. Curious but not wanting to push it, Trowa nudged him the rest of the way through the door and closed the door. He left Wufei to do as he pleased, going to the bedroom and grabbing some warm sweats and shirts he thought might fit Wufei. They'd shrunk in the wash and were too short in the arms and legs for him.

"Nice place," Wufei said softly and Trowa just nodded, pushing him toward the bathroom. There were towels in a nice neat pile in a rack on the wall and he handed over the clothes, figuring it needed no other explanation as he closed the door.

"Call me when you're done and I'll change your bandages."

He heard Wufei snarl through the door and went to the kitchen chuckling. There was no hot chocolate in his cupboard and Trowa made a mental note to get some, having decided he quite liked it and recalling the way Wufei practically guzzled the stuff.

The shower came on and he couldn't hide a smile as he mixed a pot of tea. He switched on the TV but there was nothing interesting so he went to the bedroom and fished out some clothes for himself.

Wufei opened the door, one slender arm snaking out, unscarred, in demand. Trowa just chuckled, grabbed the hand and pushed forward, forcing his way in. Wufei was, luckily, at least partially dressed. Trowa tried not to look, keeping curious glances to a minimum, trying to remind himself he had seen it all before but it didn't make a difference as he pushed Wufei in front of the sink and began inspecting the wounds, new and old. Wufei's body fascinated him and he was willing to admit it wasn't just the scars. There was something about Wufei that pulled at him; always had and always would. A grace locked within his very cells that made him think of things he definitely should have been thinking of at that point in time. So he pushed them aside as easily as Wufei would have and got to work, cleaning out the wounds, satisfied there was no sign of infection he bound them up and left Wufei alone to finish dressing.

When Wufei finally emerged, fully clothed, Trowa handed him a cup of tea and slipped past him, closing the bathroom door behind him.

The water was blessedly hot. He had almost forgotten what a hot shower was like. Blessedly clean and calm, Trowa emerged to find Wufei sprawled on the floor, the photo from the TV in one hand, the other draped over his stomach, rubbing back and forth across the dint in the skin. Trowa went over and crouched by his head, taking a closer look and smiling softly at the memory.

"Would you really have come?" Wufei's hand paused, clenching. Trowa reached out and lay his own over the scar beneath the thin material, hoping it was comforting and not unsettling.

"Yes," was his simple reply.

Wufei shuddered under his hand and Trowa saw the tears trying to well, being forced back down, saw the throat working, clogging, failing as Wufei refused to acknowledge it.

"Why?"

Trowa cocked his head to the side, thinking that was a stupid question.

"To be with you." Even if he couldn't do a thing to help. Just to be there. Trowa would have gone and never left.

Wufei was still and too quiet for a long time. At last he put the photo aside and curled up on his side turning away from Trowa, looking out the window at the darkening night sky.

"It's hurts," Wufei finally admitted quietly, the words mere breath, hardly there, but they rang loud in Trowa's ears as he leaned down over the form, wrapping his arms about Wufei, smothering him in a tight cocoon of warmth and wondering if was possible for one person to cry for two; for one to bleed for two because he knew Wufei would not.

In time he pulled Wufei to his feet and led him to the bedroom, pushing him down into the blankets and turning off the lights. He didn't try to hold Wufei, fearing the dreams that would come, but he did reach out and place a feather light tight reassuringly on the scarred arm, satisfied when Wufei didn't pull away.

It wasn't until he was sure Wufei was asleep that he let himself roll onto his side and reached out to wrap a slender lock of black hair about his fingers, caressing the strands.

"I'm going to make it hurt a lot more, Wufei," he apologized quietly, sadly. There was, of course, no reply, so he drifted off.

He was not prepared to be woken by a firm kick to the shin but the sharp lance of paint hat shot through his leg served as a rather effective alarm clock. He sat bolt upright in the bed and glared at Wufei, who was lost to a nightmare.

He should have woken him, should have shaken him out of it, but he didn't. Rather, he sat there and he listened. He let it all play out for him, right there in Wufei's whimpered pleas and cries, reliving it with him, seeing it etched into every part of Wufei until at last Wufei's hand clenched around the ghost of something and Trowa knew he had the gun in his hand. And he waited, holding his breath, needing to know, needing to be sure there was a chance.

And Wufei's hand finally released its hold on the remembered object and his body relaxed, the nightmare ending, the breaths smoothing out, falling into a regular pattern of sleep without dreams. And Trowa smiled as he saw it.

Because even in his dreams Wufei chose to live; chose to put the gun aside. Even in the very core of his fear Wufei was not ready to give up and Trowa knew he could drag Wufei out of whatever it was he had fallen into; he could replace the ghost Une had protected and replace it with the real, living thing.

He stroked Wufei's arm in apology and was rewarded with onyx eyes flickering open to stare at him dazedly. Trowa left Wufei to wake up, heading for the kitchen and the teapot. He glanced at the clock and it was seven, giving them at least an hour to get ready for work.

Wufei emerged, still rubbing sleep from his eyes but with his hair already pulled back into a short tail. He moved to the floor, where the picture was still lying, picked it up and put it back on the TV before turning it on, flicking through the channels snaring on an early morning children's show where the presenters were talking about a computer game. Trowa chuckled as Wufei sat down in front of it, cross legged, completely absorbed.

"Maniacs," he muttered as he poured two cups of tea and headed for the floor, putting Wufei's down in front of him and taking imaginary bets on how long it would take Wufei to notice it.

While Wufei followed his rather unorthodox morning routine, Trowa scrounged up two uniforms from his closet. He went and stood in front of Wufei, holding up the items apologetically.

One arm snaked out and Wufei grabbed the uniform while his other hand picked up the teacup, downing the hot liquid in a few quick gulps before the attention turned solely to the clothes.

Trowa left him too it, more than amused, just finished putting on his tie when the phone rang. He emerged to find Wufei paused with the tie in his hands, staring at the phone as if it were an alien. Trowa cast him a curious look before he connected the call, Duo's head appearing on the screen.

"Hey, Tro! Your welcome home party is here tonight! See you at eight!"

"Set an extra seat," Trowa said coldly and was rewarded with a startled gasp from Duo. They both knew who it was for.

"Tro…Heero…" Trowa just glared and Duo winced, nodded his agreement. He hung up and turned to see Wufei still just standing there with his tie in his hands so Trowa walked over and grabbed it, tying the damn thing around his neck, taking his annoyance out on the clothing. Why were people so blind?

"Why so surprised?" Trowa murmured as he finished off the tie and let his hands linger on Wufei's shoulders. Wufei just looked from him to the phone and Trowa recalled his first meeting with Marie in Wufei's office and realized she was being serious; the phone never rang.

Trowa's fingers gripped a little tighter, apologizing for not understanding and for never having called. There was little else he could do except stand there and wait for the shock to ease from Wufei's body.

"I'm not going," Wufei said softly.

"Then I'm not going either."

Wufei frowned at that and they both knew they were going. It would be dishonorable, after all, not to turn up to your own welcome home party. Trowa stared at Wufei's completely destroyed boots as Wufei pulled them onto his feet and shook his head, making a mental not to get Marie to come in that afternoon to hand over the Christmas presents.

"Why are we going in today?" Wufei suddenly asked, looking around the room in confusion. "It's Sunday."

"Actually," Trowa said softly, putting their mugs in the sink before heading for the door, "it's Saturday. And even if it was Sunday, you would still have to be in Sal's office at nine."

Scowling darkly at that, Wufei grumbled his way past Trowa, something about sadistic women with pointy objects being outlawed.

"So," Trowa asked conversationally as he caught up with Wufei, tossing an arm over his shoulders and poking him in his non-injured side. "What are you going to wear to my party?"

The look on Wufei's face was well worth going.