Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Justitia ❯ Chapter 19

Justitia 19: The key to change . . . is to let go of fear. -Rosanne Cash

Wufei let it wash, all the details blurred, slipping past him, letting him remain adrift in the sea of it all. There were people everywhere, familiar faces but they were not welcome there. Not really, and so Wufei found himself pretending they weren't. There. He faded them from his sight, sitting at the computer and randomly opening and closing files as they came and went all around him until all he could hear was the scrubbing, back and forth, of whatever poor pool had been set the task of cleaning the office floor. Wufei didn't look around to see who it was. Did not want, or need, to know.

In time a hand came down on his shoulder, but it was not the hand he had expected, so he looked up at Sally, mildly curious. It took several minutes for the world to come back, for the colour to return and the sounds to merge into coherency. It was quieter than he had expected and he figured most of the clean up must be done, Preventers under lockdown as everyone headed home for the night.

Night. A whole day. Where did time go? Wufei did not know.

"Do me a favour and stay home tomorrow?"

Wufei chuckled, nodding slightly in agreement. He intended to sleep until the woman's damned drugs were completely out of his system.

Trowa came in, looking cold somehow and more than a little tired, but he smiled as he looked at Wufei and Wufei smiled back, still feeling a little guilty. He had known the moment he opened his mouth that Trowa would come as close as he ever had to panicking, but he had spoken anyway; had damn near told Sarah to shoot him and he hadn't known, deep down, whether she would do it or not. Had taken a gamble with both of their strength. He had not meant to, but it had been the right thing to do, in a way.

He couldn't walk on his own and was not about to let Trowa carry him again. Wufei thought Trowa was near to collapsing from exhaustion himself. It had been a long day. So he let Sally and Trowa share his weight and basically drag him upstairs to the garage, to the car parked almost inconspicuously by the doors. He didn't even bother to glance at his own, still tucked away in its dark corner. He tried to recall where he had bought it from but even that simple task seemed to be missing from his memory. He wondered what else he had chosen to forget and figured it was probably for the best.

It was raining. Wufei watched the haze of it splatter against the darkness of the road, looking like a thousand tiny dying fireflies in the headlights of the oncoming cars, flaring for a brief moment before they fell out of synch with the world and splattered, splashed and died. Like too many things, and not enough things.

One of Trowa's hands plucked his own from his lap and warm fingers wrapped around his own cold digits. Wufei didn't shift his gaze, nor did he shift his hand. Everything was where it needed to be, of that he was certain, but it was also where he wanted it. He was where he wanted to be, for the first time in a very long time.

It was hard, getting to the apartment, but they managed it and Trowa practically dragged Wufei into the bedroom, the pair of them collapsing on the bed. It was hard, to pull off his shoes, to get the shirt off his chest. Wufei had not realised how much blood had spilled over, sprinkled across the materials hiding his own skin. His own, scarred skin, that hurt like hell when it wasn't numb but was his nonetheless.

There was warmth and the familiar weight of the blankets, slender arms pulling him closer, wrapping him up in what Wufei could only assume was the familiar tight embrace, barely there in his drugged state, but still warm. That it was there at all was still a small miracle to Wufei.

He lay on his side, watching the rise and fall of Trowa's chest, and above it the window, and the water, the dying would-be fireflies as they passed the white glow of the streetlight outside, better known as rain. He counted them as they fell through the centre of his vision by the thousands.

"What do you want?" Wufei did not expect an answer. It had been hours and he was sure Trowa had to be asleep, as he himself should have been. And he was sleeping, in a way. His body was sound asleep; he could not have moved if his life depended on it. But his mind was restless, running through his brain as if slipping through a database, searching for something Wufei could not quite grasp.

"You," Trowa mumbled softly, arms tightening a little to let Wufei know he was not asleep and had he been able Wufei might have stiffened.

"Good." Wufei could feel the smile and didn't bother to look up to see it. Because they both understood; what Trowa wanted and needed were the same thing. And Wufei intended to give it to him, because he wanted and needed the same thing.

"Tro," Wufei hesitated, not sure what he wanted to say, what he needed to ask but knowing there was something in the back of his mind that had been nagging since Trowa turned up at the door to his room in Antarctica. It was a question asked in rage and confusion in the beginning, but now flavoured with something else. "Why are you here?"

Trowa didn't answer for a long time; so long Wufei thought he wasn't going to, or that he had fallen asleep, but there was a distortion in the even breathing beneath Trowa's chest and words rumbled out, soft and gentle.

"I live here."

Wufei snorted at that, but the little voice deep down stuck its head up and grinned at him, inexplicably pleased, hearing something more in the words, and Wufei thought he understood, though he was not sure he could believe it. That would take time, and a lot of it, but he was no longer afraid to spend it.

He woke to afternoon sunlight filtering through the window, a knocking on the door dragging him from dreams he knew were better off forgotten. Every part of him ached, but it was a familiar post-mission ache rather than the sharp stabbing pain of actual injury and it was wonderful just to feel anything at all, so Wufei did not begrudge his body its complaints. Rather, he forced himself to roll off the side of the bed, barely managing to land on his feet. Trowa was nowhere to be seen and Wufei assumed it was him at the door, though why he didn't have a key Wufei did not know.

He was still in his clothes from the day before and he sniffed indignantly at the stench of them, scratching at the dried blood spots on his hand as he shuffled to the door and wrenched it open, waiting patiently for Trowa to come in.

Only the legs that wandered past his lowered line of sleepy vision were definitely not Trowa's, nor any other male person Wufei had ever known, and the voice that made its way through his brain was definitely not one he recognised.

"Sorry Wufei, but Trowa's still at work and I left my key on the bench! I didn't want to wake you, but Trowa's going to be another hour yet."

Wufei watched the woman walk into the apartment, shopping bags hanging off one arm as she sauntered into the kitchen and swung the groceries onto the bench. He had to blink the sleep out of his eyes to get a proper look and he shut the door, shuffled back into the kitchen and proceeded to stand beside the bench and stare blankly for another moment before it really sunk in that Trowa was not home and…she was.

"Cathy?"

"Yes?"

Wufei just shook his head, deciding not to bother questioning the odd turn of events. At some point he had forgotten Trowa had a life, and that that life had not included Chang Wufei a week ago. He wondered if Cathy came over often. She probably did, not that Wufei minded, but if the whole circus troop randomly showed up he was going to have to do something. He decided it was a good thing he owned a collection of swords, figuring they were a little harder to juggle than knives.

"Trowa's at work?" Wufei asked, confused. Was he meant to have gone in today? Generally the day after any sort of mission was a day off for field agents and while Wufei often ignored the unspoken rule he had not imagined Trowa doing the same and certainly not to actually work.

"Yeah. Une called at lunchtime and asked him to go help Heero sort through the last bit of the case Trowa's been working on the last couple of months. They just needed to clean it all up. He said he'll be done soon and to start getting dinner ready. I'm really sorry. I really thought I had remembered to take my keys to the store."

Wufei idly wondered where the store was. The fact he didn't know was enough to tell him there had probably been next to nothing edible in the house. At least, nothing he would have felt comfortable offering Cathy.

"Do you….live here?" There was no sign anyone other than Trowa inhabited any kind of space in the apartment, but the woman did have a key and was making her way around the kitchen with a familiarity Wufei doubted he would ever get for any kichen, and she looked…comfortable. At home.

"Are you kidding?" Cathy laughed, shaking the vegetables out of the shopping bag nearest her. "Trowa and I can't share space for longer than a day without trying to kill each other, which is never a good idea between a knife thrower and a Gundam Pilot, let me tell you."

Wufei deciding blinking was the best course of action, followed by a short nod as he shuffled back to the bedroom and grabbed some clean clothes from the closet before heading to the shower, leaving Cathy to dinner. He wasn't the best cook anyway, and he vaguely recalled Cathy trying to feed him soup during the war which, while he had not eaten, had smelled so divine his stomach had rumbled for days.

The water was hot, steamy and clean as it washed away the dirt and grime, little trails of brown filth swirling down the drain. He washed his hair slowly, savouring the scent of the generic shampoo, just letting the water wash through his hair and over his shoulders, closing his eyes and just listening to the sound of it. Almost like rain, but more controlled.

His hands moved of their own accord, reaching first to his arm, tracing the too familiar scar, but feeling it as if for the first time, finally proving to himself that it was in fact a scar, the wound long closed. He opened his eyes to look down at it, to study the way the stretched and bubbled skin shifted and glistened in the artificial light. His fingers moved on, trailing over his chest, tracing the three round, flat scars, scratching a little at the ageing skin, proving to himself they were old, that the skin wasn't fresh and ready to tear back open. Old wounds. Down his hands trailed to his stomach, to the torn mess of his belly button, tracing the new contour of it as he hadn't dared do for months, probing across his gut to feel the organs all in their right places underneath, whole and complete. Repaired. He braced one hand against the wall as he leant over to stare at his feet and the dark purple marks there. They had faded since the last time he looked down, no longer as dominant, no longer synonymous with pain when he dared put weight there, to walk or run. He reached around his ankle with his free hand and traced over the thick band of scarring but there was no pain there and he could feel where hios nerves sat, back deep below the skin surface, wrapped tight around the muscle, where they were meant to be.

He watched the water falling, watching each small droplet fall and joint he torrent going down the drain and in time he reached out a hand to catch them, bringing them to his lips to taste the salt and he smiled, because in the end that was all there really was to do.

Trowa had kept his word. He had put him back together again.

He shut off the water and dressed, hanging up his towel and running a comb through his hair. He didn't bother tying it back, heading out to the kitchen and the scent coming from there that was slowly permeating every inch of the apartment.

"I remember this smell," Wufei noted as he sat on a stool at the bench and folded his arms across the edge, watching Cathy stir the large vat of soup.

"I made it the night I met you," Cathy agreed.

"Did you make this much of it then, too?" Wufei noted wryly, raising one speculative brow as Cathy covered the soup and came to lean on the bench across from him.

"But of course," she said, winking. "This keep you from having to suffer Trowa's cooking for a week."

"Ah," Wufei laughed quietly. "But what shall I do when the week is over?"

"Why, I'll return of course."

"So you come here once a week?" It didn't surprise Wufei. He had, on some level, expected it, perhaps even known about it. There were many rumours in Preventers and many concerned those who had been integral to the wars. While Cathy was still greatly unknown to the world as anything but a masterful knife-thrower in a colony circus Wufei could not help but recall Marie's pleas to change rooms back in Antarctica because she couldn't stand the gossip that would fly if she was forced to share a room with Trowa Barton. Wufei vaguely recalled hearing mention of the beautiful woman who was at Barton's house at least once a week, who never failed to pack the guy's lunch for him the next day and who had bravely turned up at the office once looking for him. At the time, Wufei had paid no attention. Now that he thought about it, it could only have been Cathy.

"But of course!" Cathy leant in conspiratorially. "I have to make sure no skank steals your room."

Wufei blushed scarlet, leaning away from her to get a better look at the wicked expression on her face. He was beginning to understand where Trowa got his weird sense of humour.

"I don't have a room…" He noted warily and she just winked at him again. He decided he didn't want to know how much she knew, figuring whatever it was was too much anyway. Much better not to know.

"Then there is certainly no room for anyone else," Cathy noted, as if this were obvious. She headed over to stir her soup again, turning the heat down before heading around the bench to the television area, sprawling out across the mats beside the coffee table. Wufei sighed as he hopped off the stool and made his way to the other side of the table, kneeling before it and allowing himself to collapse across it. He felt a little self conscious with Cathy there, but not as badly as he would have thought he would feel. There was something decidedly soothing about her presence, and at the same time she exuded no sign of weakness, no lack of strength. Her presence was strong and fire-filled and smooth and pleasant and he decided almost instantly that he liked it. Besides, she was Trowa's sister, in almost every sense of the word.

"It's nice to have you here, Wufei," Cathy said softly, lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. She was holding her hand above her head and studying her nails. It was such a normal, female thing to do that Wufei couldn't restrain the small chuckle that escaped his lips. "You don't think I'm serious?"

Wufei cocked his head to the side and glanced across at the photo on top of the television. A week ago he would have said being anywhere was anything but nice; it was a nightmare in every denied sense of the word. But it was over. Not forgotten, but he was waking from it, slowly. He might never dream, but he felt he could live without too many problems.

"I like being here."

Cathy giggled at that, her hand falling from the sky to cover her mouth, muffling the sound but unable to hide it. She seemed pleased more than amused and her mirth didn't lessen Wufei's enjoyment of the moment. Rather, she seemed to enhance it. He was glad she had forgotten her keys and woken him up.

"Are you going to stay here, Wufei?"

He looked across at her, leaning his head back down on his hands as he watched her through the glass plane of the coffee table. It distorted her head a little but it was still just a refraction and not a reflection of a time past. It was now, and Wufei liked it that way.

"Yes," Wufei said softly. "I'm going to stay here."

Movement snagged his attention and he looked up to see Trowa standing by the kitchen bench, a knowing smirk on his face. Wufei wanted to argue it away, felt he should say something to wipe the smug look off Trowa's face, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything but nod a small greeting, which was affectionately returned. Cathy saw it and looked up, leaping up off the floor to rush over and hug Trowa, who planted a small kiss on her cheek. The first words he asked were about the food, which erupted into a series of familial complaints that had Wufei watching them, just letting it all sink in. They were a family, and they wanted him to be a part of it. For the first time since he watched his colony go up in flames he wanted that again.

He had a home. He was accepted. And that meant everything.

After a while Trowa came down to sit beside him while Cathy finished making dinner. She was humming a song, some gypsy tune from the circus. Wufei recalled the song from the night he had spent at the circus, amazed he recalled such a detail from the distant memory. It made him reconsider just how much he had paid attention to that night, not that it really mattered.

"You feeling better?"

Wufei just nodded, letting Trowa's fingers trail over his skin, watching Trowa's surprise knowingly when he didn't flinch at any of the gentle but sure touches. Trowa just watched him, incredulous, his eyes darker and livelier in the dying afternoon sunlight.

"Where did all the rain go," Trowa mused, glancing out at the window, a faint smile on his face. It pleased Wufei, somehow, to know he was at least partly responsible for the happiness he sensed in Trowa.

"Down the drain," Wufei said flatly, and it was actually difficult to keep the sarcasm from his voice, to keep a straight face as Trowa turned to look back at him.

"Cathy…did you bring wine? We need to celebrate! Chang Wufei is being sarcastic, and I'm not even Duo Maxwell!"

"Funny, Barton," Wufei rolled his eyes, letting his own amusement break over his face and it was almost as if he had unlocked some small, secret part of himself. Which he had, he realised, as the little voice from deep down inside was finally let loose. He felt whole. Complete. And home.

Trowa helped him up, guiding him to the dinner table and settling him beside Trowa's place. Cathy sat directly across from Trowa, leaving the seat opposite Wufei empty, and yet Wufei frowned at the place set there, the bowl of steaming soup sitting innocently on the placemat. Cathy had set four places.

"Tonight?"

"Yes, Wufei, tonight," Trowa said softly as Cathy went to answer the door when someone knocked. Wufei slouched in his chair but didn't even try to leave the table. One of Trowa's hands clasped his under the table and squeezed gently as Trowa leaned a little closer.

"It's what he needs."

Wufei looked up at him then, startled. Then he just nodded, steeling himself to the inevitable, inexplicably please he would have both Trowa and Cathy there to support him. And he realised he would be telling Cathy tonight too, and was glad he had had the short afternoon to at least speak with her, to see who she had become and let her see him. To know beforehand that she wanted him around; that it would not be pity.

Quatre smiled as he took his seat at the table, placing two bottles of red on the table. Wufei couldn't help but raise a brow at the brand. Expensive was an understatement, and yet with Quatre it was not a bribe but a way of life. It was strange, the way people lived. Chose to live. Wufei, regardless of what resources he had, knew he could never bring himself to walk in those circles again. He had moved past it and did not wish to return. Could not take it back to what it was, so there was no point in wishing it. Some things were never the same, and that was okay.

"Good evening Quatre."

Quatre blinked at him and then it was like watching the sun come out and Wufei felt no regret for the night to come, and while he would take back some of the past if he could he could not and he supposed that was okay too.

"Good evening Wufei. Thank you for having me, I know you must still be tired." It was strange, the way Quatre could point out your weaknesses without them feeling like they were weaknesses. There was something about him that stole away one's fears and sold them to the fairies, never to be seen or heard of again, and that was perfectly fine with Wufei. He figured he could need a few fairies. A good luck dragon or three.

The first half of dinner went surprisingly easy. Cathy was interested in everything and it was easy for the conversations to turn from one topic to the next as she explored their lives, their likes and dislikes, trying to learn who they were and it was quickly apparent to Wufei that she was trying to reacquaint not only herself with himself, but also Quatre and even Trowa to a certain degree. Despite the fact he was being manipulated inside her little scheme, Wufei made no objections, answering all her questions with a touch of enthusiasm he had not felt in a long time. It was nice, to have an adult conversation, to hear challenging views on the things Marie only ever agreed with him on. He loved her to death, but he suffered her loneliness and he knew if she was given the chance he would be dumped for friends he own age in an instant, and he did not regret that thought one bit. Hoped it was an eventuality.

In time the second bottle of wine was opened and Trowa's hand found his once more and he knew his tongue was loose enough to at least begin. He left it to Trowa to slow down the conversation, to offer him an opening. Quatre and Cathy just looked at Wufei, mildly curious, but their faces were filled with pleasure, with the enjoyment of good company. Wufei didn't want to destroy that, but he had the feeling that in the end it wouldn't matter. There would be more nights. More shared voices. This would only happen once, and then they could forget.

"I want to apologise for what I am about to say," Wufei said softly and Trowa's grip on his hand was a warning rather than support but Wufei shrugged it off. "Not because I don't want to tell you, but because I don't want to have to tell you tonight. But it would be worse tomorrow. I apologise, because I should have told you a long time ago." He looked at Trowa, drawing strength from the carefully constructed mask he found there, able to pull his own on over the past, to hide it from himself for the time it would take to share it, when he could pull it off and know he need not be reminded of it again. That it would spread among them all, the weight somehow lessened, like some strange miracle, and the gun would be silenced, the bullet forever jammed in its chamber.

"Late last August I was given a mission to go to Russia to rescue a team of agents who had been captured in Chechnya…"

The words came easily, so easily Wufei had to laugh at the way he realised they had been bottled up inside. They were already there, waiting in perfectly formed sentences, having had months to sort themselves into the perfect sequence, where they had sat, waiting for tonight, for this moment, and they were shining, just like the tears in Cathy's eyes and the strange light's in Quatre's. Like the sparkle on the surface of the wine, so much like blood but thinner, cleaner, not so damnably sweet.

The words were warm, somehow, like the fingers wrapped tight about his own, and they no longer contained the pain. Just the single regret, that he had made a mistake and it had almost cost him everything. That it may have cost him more than he would ever know. But he didn't know, so he supposed it didn't really matter and he just let the words keep coming.

It was a strange tale, when he cared to think about it, and even stranger because it was his own. And because in the end, nothing had changed. He was still who he had been and would always be. He still had the same past, filled with the same landmark decisions and the dark consequences, and his future was still a completely blank slate no one could foretell. The way people looked at him had not really changed. He was still an outcast. But the way he looked at them; the way he looked at the world, had changed.

Quatre left a long time after midnight, looking sad but glad at the same time. He asked to come over to dinner on the weekend, and if he could please bring his wife. Cathy showed him out and proceeded to set up her idea of a bed on the floor beside the coffee table as Trowa and Wufei did the dishes.

There was a sense of normalcy to the entire affair that made Wufei slightly giddy because it was something he had thought he would never have. Had thought it long lost to bad decisions that were far from his own.

And when he lay in bed once again, with the familiar slender, warm arms wrapping him tight under the blankets, he couldn't help be realise he had come full circle; that he had run a whole day without once pushing aside who he was. And that felt right.