Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Like it or Not ❯ Chapter 1

Warnings: Weirdness, angst? I'm not sure what to make of this one. Implied past 1+3, 1+R, 1+2

 

Lyrics: Darren Hayes, `Like It Or Not' (from Spin)- cos I can't listen to his voice without

thinking songfic, and I can't hear the word laptop without thinking Heero.

 

*words* = thoughts

words = lyrics

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Like It or Not

 

 

 

There were few people shuffling around the airport café at three in the morning, except for the few staff manning the checkouts and cleaning tables. This small English ground-to-ground terminal was a far cry from the bustling spaceports he was used to on his colony hopping trips, but that suited Heero just fine. He was perfectly content to have the solitude and quite to be alone with his own thoughts, to figure out exactly what he was doing here.

 

He set down his cases next to a row of worn looking benches at the entrance to the 24-hour newsagents. They were sorrowfully small, considering they held all his worldly possessions; but the habits of the war, travel light and leave no trace of where you've been, died hard. What was he doing here again? Nothing in particular, after all, there had been no one to plan his future and he never expected to have to work it out for himself. Life had invaded his being, hard, and there was nothing that he could do but hold on as the current tried to pull him under, strong and unfamiliar as it was.

 

I've been broken, shut down and useless

Feet above me

Hands in the air

 

After Brussels, he'd found his release, found it to be nothing but confusion, a soul-rending aimlessness. There was nothing for him in this new world. He had made it, but just because he was instrumental in its creation did not mean he could reap its rewards. He wasn't wired that way. The analogy was appropriate. More than people liked to think. This world was a maze, torturous and tiring.

 

You got me falling over and over

You got me twisted, tied up and tangled

I do it all for you

 

*You told me to live, Trowa, challenged me. And I tried. But I don't want to carry on the way I am, not when every banal and trivial event somehow reminds me of you.* There was no other choice now. Or was there? Nothing made sense anymore, unless he could focus on this new goal, this light at the end of the tunnel.

 

You know I've been a fool for you

I thought I tripped on a shoelace

I look down and it's only you

 

Trowa, he couldn't help but think of him, it was a constant buzz in the back of his head now. Each little problem added to his pile of confusion and frustration. But when breaking point came rushing towards him, Trowa came to mind. There was a way through this. He just needed to get to France.

 

Now I'm standing at a terminal waiting to connect to another plane

If I told you I just cancelled my flight to America

Would you call me insane?

 

Probably, he had to be slightly mad, to be giving up all that America promised him to catch a flight to such a remote part of France that the ticket steward had been only too pleased to fill another seat on the flight at short notice.

America. Duo was waiting for him there, had offered to help him when he had seen how out of place, how disjointed and detached Heero still was, from life. He had empathised, over the vid-phone, explained some of his coping techniques to help Heero before he arrived. But it wasn't enough, it could never be enough.

 

Everything I am has been neatly contained into

the contents of a Samsonite bag

Me, a laptop, 2 suitcases and I'm coming to see you,

whether you like it or not.

Whether you like it or not

 

Did Trowa have the emotional ability to mind. Heero wasn't sure. It probably wouldn't matter, because he doubted, once there, that he would be asked to leave. He snorted; Trowa never spoke any more, not verbally, of that he was sure. But then, he didn't need to, he had found his way.

 

I've been put down, picked up and put off

I've been held up, pushed and shoved around

 

The media had frenzied around him for months, but it hadn't been so bad. It had been something to do. Something he didn't have to think about, make choices about. Relena had eventually 'saved' him from their clamouring jaws. And things had been ordered and calm and grew terribly undirected. Heero had left her feeling worse than before. She though he needed space. She wanted him to be lost, and she wanted to help him find himself. He needed direction, but not hers. He needed Trowa.

 

You got me falling over and over

I've been drifting this side and upside down

I do it all for you

You know I'll be a fool for you

I keep thinking I've lost something

I look down and it's only you

 

So he had wandered, trying to live as Trowa had begged him to. But he was missing that simple truth, that control that Trowa understood so well. He was not cut out to live normally. And in the end, the obsession grew to a point where it actually helped a little. In everyday life, working out what Trowa would do here, what he would think of the situation became a good substitute for Heero's inability to feel things himself. If he was living through Trowa now, why couldn't he join him? There was no shame in it. Trowa had found no shame in it, it was just an acceptance of one's flaws.

 

Now I'm standing at a terminal waiting to connect to another plane

And if I told you I just cancelled my flight to America

Would you call me insane?

 

Not towards Duo in San Francisco, he couldn't go that way. The American was too much to deal with right now. He knew Duo had his best interests in mind, but someone so able to mix with people and find their way through life could never truly understand. So heading towards what? Where was he going, really? He wasn't sure yet, he knew Trowa would help him find out though.

 

Everything I am has been neatly contained into

the contents of a Samsonite bag

Me, a laptop, 2 suitcases and I'm coming to see you

whether you like it or not

 

Would Trowa want to see him, the question still came back to him, the resolution not as certain as he would have liked. Would the others want him to see Trowa? He knew Quatre wouldn't. The Arab had been devastated that Trowa had not been able to join him in the world, had begged him not to seclude himself, to cut himself off as he had. And in the end, Quatre had refused to speak of it, the struggle too painful to repeat, even in memory.

 

How many forms can indecision take?

When does the warning light appear before a man breaks?

 

There was no warning light. Or if there was, Heero had hit it full force and smashed through it before registering. One day, shortly after leaving Relena, he had realised that there was nothing he could do now, but escape. His internal debates had been silenced that day. He needed Trowa, the admission setting a part of his world-worn soul free.

 

Mine is a restless heart don't try to fix it

You know sometimes, sometimes I want it to ache

 

Masochism, maybe, but it felt so good at the same time, this yearning; hopeless maybe, but it didn't matter. The bitter-sweet longing was enough. The ache was beautiful.

 

Everything I am has been neatly contained into

the contents of a Samsonite bag

Me, a laptop, 2 suitcases and I'm coming to see you

And Now I'm standing at a terminal waiting to connect to another plane

And if I told you I just cancelled my flight to America

Would you call me insane?

 

The signal for boarding lit up on his flight gate and, returning from his musings, Heero took up his belongings, heading towards the departure tunnel. Yes, he was insane, but then, who wasn't. He was how he had always been, except now, or rather, soon, he would find happiness. It was an emotion elusive and flighty, but on the horizon. And Heero finally knew how to catch it.

 

Everything I am has been neatly contained into

the contents of a Samsonite bag

Me, a laptop, 2 suitcases and I'm coming to see you

 

whether you like it or not

 

*Such a Yuy phrase no? I suppose I'd prefer if you did like it, but I'll wait and see* Heero smirked his half smile at the thought. Trowa would no doubt be surprised to see him, or would he know he was coming? It didn't matter. He hoisted his laptop into the overhead compartment and unfolded his newspaper, taking his seat. One of the advantages of being short was the leg-room. Crossing his ankles, he flipped to a page with an article on education and sexual equality. How unlike him.

 

Coming to see you,

Whether you're ready or not

 

Of course, the whole point of this was to discover exactly what he was like, not how Relena wanted him to be or how Duo assumed he must be. How could they know when Heero wasn't sure himself? But Trowa didn't assume anything. And he would give him all the help and space he needed.

 

Coming to feel you,

Whether you like it or not

 

He would get to know himself, and he would get to know Trowa. That was enough for now. Anything more this soon would be pretending again, and Heero was through with that.

 

Get ready cos I'm coming to see you

Whether you like it or not

 

The engine's growled into life and the captain's voice sounded over the speakers. Heero allowed himself to relax in what seemed like a long time. Too long. He'd have to relax too. There'd be plenty of time in France, in the country, with Trowa.

 

I know, I know, I know you're gone

Is it too late baby?

 

And somewhere deep inside, Heero knew that Trowa wasn't there, wouldn't be there for him, not like he needed him to be. Trowa had not been any more comfortable than him to live in this horribly demanding world. Trowa didn't suffer anymore though. Neither would he. Heero smiled, anyone who knew him would have been startled at the genuine emotion in that expression, the freedom and pleasure.

 

I know, I know you're gone

It's too late baby,

 

Heero finally knew what he was going to do. He couldn't kid himself any longer. The fantasy was nice, but it was just another cover, another act to get through the day. But that didn't matter really. Not now. He had never belonged here, he never would. And he didn't feel anything now. Not the pain others would know soon, not the guilt. Joy coursed its way down his face in twin salt-tinged trails. He would find Trowa.

 

Don't go

 

He would be happy. At last.

 

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This didn't turn out at all the way it was supposed to, mostly it wrote itself despite my protests, but I like it all the same. Please let me know if you liked it too! Thanks for reading ///-