Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Justitia ❯ Chapter 11

Justitia 11: Everything you do is triggered by an emotion of either desire or fear. -Brian Tracy

Wufei glared at Sally, taking the bag with less than his usual bad mood. He would have to say foul; he felt foul. He wanted to pack up his things and head off into a nice dark jungle where he could kill something without anyone knowing. But most of all, he wanted to play target practice with Sally's needles on Sally herself.

He had a list of meds as long as his arm and a headache the size of the titanic from having her bellow at him about not getting himself checked into a hospital at any point prior to his meeting with her. The only plus side to the entire event was that she assured him she could fix his ankle.

He slunk back through the levels, taking the stairs instead o the elevator just to prove he was not some kind of invalid incapable of walking. No one spoke to him and those who saw him turned aside quickly enough. Nothing had changed, despite the twisting and turning in his gut and he wished he hadn't answered that phone.

Because it wasn't just hurting. It was killing him. He hadn't really noticed it before, or had managed to hide it from himself somehow, but the walls were crumbling, breaking down with every step, every breath and that damned little voice buried underneath it all was cheering as he fell.

His pace quickened as an agent sneered at him in the foyer and he hurried through the archival levels, walk turning into a full blown run as he bolted through sub-level six to seven and into his office. He slammed the door shut and fell back against it, trying to suck in air that seemed too thin, heart thundering in his ears as the whispers tried to break through.

"God, Sally's not that bad, is she?"

Wufei's head snapped up and he found Trowa looking at him oddly from the chair in front of the main monitor. Wufei forced it all down, shoving the panic aside, not wanting Trowa to see; not wanting to break in front of him. He pushed off the door, subconsciously running a hand over his stomach, just making sure it was all there as he sat in the spare chair, rolling over to the filing cabinet and grabbing a book and a pencil.

Trowa had the bag of meds and was going through them, reading the dosages and Wufei groaned as he realized there was no way he would be missing any of them. He contemplated lying about when he had to start using them, buying himself time to get rid of them, but thought better of it. Trowa wasn't going to fall for any trick he pulled.

Tossing his feet up on the desk, he flicked the book open to the next blank page and started scribbling, letting his annoyance flow out onto the page in a dark swirl of lead flame and heat. It made him feel mildly better.

Time elapsed until he looked up to find Trowa looking over his shoulder. He promptly slammed the book shut and tossed it back in the drawer. Trowa arched a brow at his reaction but said nothing, simply holding out his hands, a glass of water in one and meds in the other. Scowling, Wufei took them.

"How goes the paperwork?"

Trowa rolled his eyes, looking back at the screen of information he was working on. It just looked boring to Wufei who could think of much better things he would rather be doing. He hadn't had paperwork in a year and didn't like that he had it now.

"Oh, it's wonderful," Trowa said, voice laced with sarcasm. "You should try it sometime."

Wufei took the reprimand and tossed it out the window. Any work he had tried to dot hat morning would have been useless, tainted by his temper and they both knew it. Besides, Trowa was enjoying himself, wasn't he? Wufei just smirked.

The door opened and Marie walked in, a small collection of boxes in her arms. She walked straight up to Wufei and dumped them in his lap. Wufei just stared at them, dumbfounded.

"Marie, what…?"

"Apparently, Christmas is not always in December," Trowa noted wryly and Wufei looked at him, horrified, realizing the gifts were for him, knowing they must have gotten them pre-the Antarctica trip. His hands trembled as he picked the first one off the pile.

It was a backpack, plain black, sturdy canvas, waterproofed and light. Wufei rubbed his fingers along the straps and smiled at the slightly rounded edges. It wouldn't give his shoulders blisters, no wearing in required. Just take it and go. He looked up at Trowa knowingly and just smiled, not sure what to say. Somehow, he got the impression the smile was enough.

The second box was boots. He shared a knowing grin with Marie as he slipped off his old ones and pulled on the new. They would take a week, he guessed, to wear in completely, but since he had a week of paperwork to spare he supposed it was good timing.

"Did you buy Une new socks?" Wufei asked, eyes laughing as he pulled Marie into a hug, messing up her carefully done hair.

"No!" Marie squawked, trying to break free. Trowa was just looking at them, a little amused, and Wufei suddenly wanted him to get the joke.

"Christmas, we couldn't think of anything to buy her," Wufei noted, wanting to laugh again at the way Marie had explained Une's face when she told him about handing over the present. "We got her a garbage bag full of Mr. Men socks. She's got a pari for every day of the year."

Trowa burst out laughing at that. Wufei realized he had never seen Trowa laugh before; not a chuckle or a smirk or the almost amused looks Trowa usually sported, but a full blown raucous cough. He liked it. Liked the way everything in Trowa just seemed to let go, like water and it all flowed out. He wished he could laugh like that but he knew if he started he would never stop.

His fingers moved over the third and final present, this one smaller than the others. When it lay open in his lap, he just stared at it, not sure what to do. Marie was watching him expectantly, and Trowa's laughter had ended and he had that knowingly smirk Wufei was getting to know all too well plastered to his face.

Trowa eventually walked over and picked the thing up, and it twinkled in the overhead lights, the sword through the Dragon's heart gleaming. It was not a Chinese dragon, but a Scandinavian one and the implications were not lost on Wufei. Even without knowing the details Trowa had sensed something Wufei had not been able to sense within himself and here it was, in Trowa's hands, finally being given back to him.

The dragon's heart. His strength. Trowa's hands reached around his neck and fastened the clasp and the weight fell light against Wufei's neck. One hand came up instinctively to rub at the silver, tracing the fine grooves, the cool contours.

"Thank you."

"Welcome," Marie poked him in the side before rushing for the door. "I'll be back in a bit. I have to see Une for a bit first." And she was gone as quickly as she had come. Wufei just in his chair, staring at the empty doorway, fingers refusing to release the pendant.

"Let's go."

He looked up, more than a little surprised to fid Trowa in the doorway, waiting for him, car keys in hand.

"Where are we going?" Wufei reached out and switched his system onto sleep mode as he stood and headed for the door.

"Home," Trowa shrugged. "I'm bored, we're not doing anything, and I want to see your house."

Wufei stalled in the doorway as he realized just whose home they were going to. He was forced to take longer strides to catch up to Trowa, and he kept his head down, trying to remember what the inside of his place looked like. It had been a while since he last saw it. It took him three wrong turns and some seriously strange looks from Trowa to recall the directions correctly and then he realized his car was still at Headquarters somewhere and not in his allocated car space, so he let Trowa park there. Odd, Wufei could hardly even remember what his car looked like. He hadn't seen it in a while either.

It wasn't until he was standing in front of his door that he realized he didn't have a key. He glared at the door handle before deciding it didn't really matter and he quickly slammed a fist into the wood just above it, cracking the lock mechanism. The door swung open.

"Wufei…" Trowa just shook his head, apparently deciding not to finish whatever he had intended to say. Instead, he followed Wufei inside.

It was a shock to Wufei's system after being in Trowa's place. He had never really thought about what his place was like. He never went to anyone else's house to compare, no one ever came to his and was rarely there anyway, so what did it matter? But he figured he had probably created a whole new level to sparse, dull and cold. The whole place looked dead.

The floor was coated in a thin layer of dust. There was nothing on the floor other than a low lying table that was still scattered with maps, notebooks and various coloured pens. The kitchen was nothing but a stove on an otherwise bare bench and a small bar fridge that he vaguely recalled having a carton of milk in. He didn't want to think about what that would smell like.

He forced himself to move, going to the adjoining bedroom. His bed was a futon mattress tossed on the floor and a few blankets. He had a cupboard full of clothes, most of which were so stained with blood he could never hope to wear them in public again. A rack on the far wall was the only sign of inhabitance; ten katana's hanging, perfectly still, in their ornate sheaths. If not for the katana's even Wufei would have had to wonder if he had a credit to his name.

Arms suddenly came around his waist and when he tried to pull away he was only pulled tighter against a hard, warm body. He looked over his shoulder to see Trowa's face but it was buried against his shirt. Wufei wondered what was wrong with him. He brought an image of Trowa's apartment to mind and thought that maybe people were just not meant to live like this. That could explain a few things. His place looked like their places through the war, but in the end that was all Wufei really knew. Images of his home on L5 were not permitted to surface in his mind, like so many things.

Trowa would not let him go so Wufei resigned himself to having to stand in the middle of his bedroom for a while, doing absolutely nothing, feeling like some kind of strange squishy toy. An oversized teddy. He didn't like the feeling and at the same time he could think of nothing he would rather be doing.

Trowa's grip finally lessened and Wufei caught a glimpse of damp lashes when his head came up before Trowa turned and headed for the other room again.

"Pack it all up."

Wufei just stood there some more then, stunned, because there was only one real way to interpret that comment. Looking about the room he went to the closet first, grabbing his spare suitcase and tossing it open at his feet. And then he just stood there, trying to spot anything he wanted to keep.

Trowa found him there, staring at his clothes like an idiot and Wufei sighed as he was pushed aside and Trowa started flicking through what he owned. There was a heavy frown on his face that Wufei thought looked like a little school boy who didn't quite understand something. He thought it was rather cute actually, but he wasn't about to say that to Trowa Barton.

Trowa held up his old leather jacket and put his fist through the hole in the side of it. Wufei just shrugged. There was a reason he didn't wear it any more. Trowa kept grabbing shirt after shirt and just tossing it on a growing pile in the corner. By the time he had done with the shirts hanging up he had salvaged three shirts and an old denim jacket Wufei had not known he had. Then he moved on to the trousers. Two pairs of jeans, a pair of black slacks and three sets of traditional silk uniforms with his clan's insignia on them made it in the suitcase which was practically empty. Trowa tossed in a set of pajamas he found stashed in the back and some of the underwear and that was that. Wufei was packed up and ready to go. Almost.

He turned aside, grabbing one of the blankets off the bed and laying it down on the floor by the far wall. Slowly, slower than he had had done anything in quite some time, he reached out and began taking down the swords, placing them each in the blanket and giving it a turn so they were each encased in their own soft layer of material, safe from one another.

It had taken him years to collect them all, starting when the first war finished. He had contacted every person he knew of who had had contact with his colony, asking for the family weapons that might have survived the explosion. These were all that came back. And among them was his own, in its white scabbard, still splattered with blood. His own. Spilled by Treize when he nicked him in their duel. He had never been able to make himself clean it off.

Trowa waited patiently while he folded them all in the blanket and he carried the suitcase when Wufei couldn't, not saying a word as they left the apartment. They were hallways to Trowa's place when Wufei finally sighed in relief.

"When was the last time you were there?" Trowa asked quietly, overtaking an old corolla.

"About a month, I think. I don't know."

Trowa just shook his head and watched the road. Wufei had the odd feeling he wasn't going back any time soon, if ever. He didn't care. It wasn't a home so much as a hole he liked to hide out in, like his office only it didn't have any games to play and Marie never visited him at home.

They didn't end up at Trowa's house. Rather, when Wufei looked out his window he found the shopping center in his direct line of sight. He frowned at Trowa but didn't say anything as he climbed out, fishing in his pockets to make sure he had his wallet. He wasn't an idiot and he was not about to let anyone buy him a new wardrobe, especially not Trowa Barton.

They went to the discount store first, because he just didn't have any clothes anymore and he needed something to scrounge around the house in. He wasn't really sure why, but he had the sneaking suspicion Trowa knew something he didn't and that maybe he wouldn't be on so many missions anymore. He wasn't sure he liked that idea. Missions kept him busy. Missions let him forget. Missions meant his thoughts could be focused on one thing and not others.

He found a few pairs of casual sweatpants he didn't mind and a collection of cheap t-shirts. Trowa found a jumper with a hood like those Wufei had been wearing in Antarctica and added it to the pile.

Wufei had hoped that would be the end of the trip, but he was promptly dragged into a more expensive store where Trowa started tossing jeans at him until he chose one. There were hundreds of the damned things and he wanted him to pick one! So he picked two he thought looked okay, found the right size and thrust his card at the rather distressed looking salesperson while Trowa put the store display back to rights.

From there they went to a rather eclectic looking store where Trowa proceeded to just glare at him until he bought a new coat. Not that Wufei minded; he needed one, especially since the last one was still packed in a plastic bag in his suitcase, completely smothered in blood, a total lost cause. But Trowa had found a shop where Wufei liked just everything he saw and he had that look on his face again that said `choose'. Wufei found that ironic; he had no choice but to choose. So he forced himself to run through the racks, looking for anything in his size and idly noting he was not very big. He turned to look at Trowa and for the first time noticed the guy stood a good head taller than him.

"Bloody Europeans," he murmured as his hand traced the sleeves on the coats, his brain trying to avoid having to decide. In the end he didn't have to. His fingers brushed against something and he pushed the rack open to find what he had unknowingly been looking for. Steel grey velvet twisted in the light to look almost black. It was heavy, double lined and would reach just past his knees. The high neck would help hold his katana in place and the hood would help him hide his face in the dark. He idly wondered how normal people chose their coats, decided it didn't matter and grabbed it, tossing it on the counter and pulling out his wallet. He didn't even bother to look at the price because it didn't matter. Never had.

Trowa looked at him oddly all the way out of the center until they were in the car and Wufei couldn't take it any more.

"What?"

"You do realize you just bought a coat worth over a thousand dollars?"

Wufei just shrugged, really not interested. It was just money. He had plenty to spare and he had just spent more in an afternoon than he had in a year so what did it matter? Although, it was a bit annoying to know it would probably just get ruined on his next mission.

"Wufei…how much money do you have?"

Wufei stared at Trowa, thinking that wasn't a very socially polite question to ask. Hell, that was as bad as asking Quatre what he spent all his tax deductions on.

"I don't know," Wufei shrugged. And it was the truth. "I got a letter a while ago informing me all the family assets had been transferred to me and that they were mine when I was sixteen. I just never bothered to read the letters after that."

Trowa was laughing again; the real, loud and throaty laugh and Wufei quietly wondered how often he could get Trowa to let go, and just how far he could make him go. It was a strange thought, out of place in his otherwise numb brain and he shook it loose, looking back out the window until they reached Trowa's apartment.

"Where do you want to keep the swords?" Trowa asked quietly when Wufei put the blanket down on the kitchen bench. They both looked around the apartment and Wufei just shrugged, not sure what to say. Was Trowa asking which cupboard he wanted to put them in until he cleaned up his own place, or was he asking where he wanted to hang them Permanently.

Trowa was looking at him and Wufei saw the moment he realized what was going through his mind. He winced as Trowa grabbed his arm and pulled him in for a hug, wishing Trowa would stop doing it. He'd been hugged more times in the last few days than in his whole life and it was plain weird.

"Pick a wall, Wufei."

Wufei shuddered as the question was reinterpreted and made clear. This was where he lived now. This was home. He wondered if hugs were a side effect of having one.

He pointed at the wall above the TV and was rewarded with a tight, knowing smile from Trowa who grabbed the blanket of weapons and lay it down against the wall. There was no doubt in Wufei's mind that they would be building racks tomorrow.

Trowa carted the shopping bags into the bedroom and tossed them on the bed, turning to his cupboard with a frown. It wasn't until then that Wufei realized the flaw to Trowa's wise and wonderful plan of having him move in.

There was only one bed in Trowa's apartment. And suddenly things started to look a little different to Wufei but he would not let his brain think about it. Still, he couldn't tear his gaze away from his bed as Trowa started cleaning out some of his shelves to make space.

"There's the couch," Trowa noted softly, breaking his quiet contemplation. "Or there's me and the bed. Your choice."

Wufei just shook his head and started unpacking the clothes from the shopping bags, tearing off the tags and tossing them in the empty holes Trowa had made. Trowa was frowning as he looked at the few things they had salvaged in the suitcase.

"Where the hell is your uniform?"

Wufei looked in the suitcase at that, stumped. He tried to remember where he had them all. There was the one he had been wearing when Sally called. It was at work in his suitcase, as was the one he had taken on the Cambodia mission. He'd lost one in the Canary Islands, another in Dakota. He'd lost two in Nairobi and another on L1. He added them up on his fingers and knew that wasn't all of them but he just shrugged.

"They're in my suitcase at work."

"How many?" Trowa asked skeptically.

"Two."

And there was that laugh again. Wufei decided he definitely liked it. It made him feel…calm. Somehow removed from everything except the sound of the laughter. It made that little voice buried deep inside sing, content.

"Come on, get dressed," Trowa was still chuckling as he pulled Wufei into the closet, and left him there. He grabbed some of his own clothes and disappeared off in the direction of the bathroom. A minute later Wufei heard the shower and let out a sigh, staring at all the clothes.

He had the coat. He supposed the new dark denim jeans would be okay. He looked at his new t-shirts and realized he had forgotten something, flicking open the suitcase and pulling out the three shirts Trowa had salvaged. They were fine, unstained, neutral colours, but they held memories in their fibers and he remembered why they had been in his closet and not in his suitcase at work.

He sat down on the bed and just stared at them until hands gently tugged them away and put them back in their box and a plain white shirt was pushed into his hands, clean and crisp and smelling of starch and Trowa. Wufei wrapped his hands in it and looked up, but Trowa was gone from the room again. So he got up and went to the bathroom.

He took his time undressing, trying to ignore the scars, trying not to remember where they came from even as he unbound the new ones and stared at the wounds, poking at them. His arm was fine and he decided he wouldn't bind it again. It had long ago stopped bleeding and the stitches were holding fine. He estimated he could take them out in a day or two. The two gun shot cuts were still oozing a little, but when he got under the spray and cleaned them out it was clean and well its way to healing. Still, he grabbed a bandage from under the sink and bound it anew, rather pleased with his job.

The shirt was a little big, but he could roll the sleeves up a little and tucking the shirt in worked fine under the jacket. He was secretly in love with his new jacket. He stood staring at himself in the mirror when he was dressed, not really sure what he looked like. Not himself, or not the Wufei he was used to seeing looking back at him the mirror.

He tied his hair back and walked out to find Trowa at the door, just about to knock. He grinned, poking Trowa in the gut as he walked to the door, holding it open with a small flourish. Trowa just quirked a brow at him as he walked through.

He didn't get nervous so much as agitated. The further they drove the longer he wanted it to take them to get there. Hell, he didn't want them to get there. An itch grew in his arm and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something in his arm and he kept rubbing it against his trousers, trying to kill it. But there was nothing there. Wufei knew Trowa had picked up on it quite some time ago and was just happy he hadn't said anything.

When they pulled up outside a small townhouse he wanted his car so he could climb in it and drive back to the apartment. There were lights in the windows that made his eyes hurt and the music pounding the air gave him an instant headache. He felt like the street was full of people watching him even though there was just the little old lady with her dog. Even the dog wouldn't stop barking at him.

Trowa snatched his hand away from his scars and held it tight in his as he marched them both up to the door.

"I don't want to be here," Wufei practically wailed, grinding his feet into the front step and trying to pull his hand free to no avail. He tasted blood in his mouth and wondered if he was going to have a flashback before he realized he had bitten his tongue and he realized he had cracked one of the caps on his teeth on the last mission and his real tooth was suddenly far too interesting to his questing tongue. He couldn't stop playing with it, sawing his teeth against it and he remembered…

"I don't care what you want, remember?" Trowa hissed in his ear and it was enough to pull him back, to reign in the panic and fear and Wufei ripped his hand free of Trowa's shoving it in his pocket as the door swung open and Maxwell grinned at them.

Wufei wanted to smack the grin off his face because he knew it was fake. Had always known. It was a mask over dark truths, like the caps on his teeth and he didn't like it.

"Aha! Finally my boy returns home!" Duo kicked the door open and threw his arms about Trowa, who to Wufei's stunned amazement let him. He wondered if the hugs were normal among them now, if it was just something he had missed out on with everything else. He didn't want to know, so he let it slide.

"And the Fei finally makes his debut," Duo winked at him, ushering him inside and Wufei wanted to scream as Duo's arm slid down his arm in greeting, over scars he had no idea about. It was all fake! Wufei wanted to leave. Immediately.

But someone took his hand and he looked down to find Marie tugging him away from Duo and into the main room.

Heero was there. His mind didn't even try to process that presence glaring a hole in his back. Rather, Wufei just let Marie guide him to where Sally and Une were talking together in a corner, feeling only slightly more at ease.

Duo came into the main room and Quatre appeared, his wife on his arm. Wufei had only ever seen pictures in the paper, but she really was a lovely little thing. He didn't like the way she kept looking across at him though. It made him feel like the stranger he was; the outsider suddenly dragged into this tight-knit little circle. His only consolation was the small hand in his and the way Marie actually leant into him; taking strength from him.

He wasn't alone on the outside.

Trowa met his gaze from his place at Duo's side and he smiled, running a hand along his neck. Wufei instinctively reached up to touch the same place and his hand came in contact with the dragon pendant. And he was suddenly calm, collected, even a little happy.

"Don't suppose you bought any games," he muttered and was rewarded with a smirk as Marie patted her pocket.

"I got us an octopus in the fish tank."