Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Mistaken Words ❯ To Glimps a Tortured Soul ( Chapter 11 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Mistaken Words

AN: I'm sorry I haven't updated in the last little while like I said I would, things got a little hectic and now I'm going to give you 3 chapters to make up for it! I hope you enjoy them

So here's the answer to the question Adnolprinaminophen, so this is what my brother gave me after a minute of thinking about it ^_^ you have to break it down to see what it is.

Ad - Advil

nol - Tylenol

prin - Asprin

aminophen - Acetaminophen

and there you have it ^_^

Angel Sanada: Well unfortunately Heero wasn't able to save Relena, but he tired and that has to count for something right? ^_^ thanks for reading sorry I've been so bad about updating!

SimMuDo: Thanks so much! I hope you continue to enjoy!

Disclaimer: don't own. . .wish I could think ups something more creative to say. . .*shrug* it gets the point across ^_~

To Glimpse a Tortured Soul

Dante strode down the empty hall, his long strides feeling slower to him, than they had only the day before. As a great weight had come to settle on his shoulders, a weight he had not expected. His emotions were mixed as he neared Heero's room, a part of him was angry at the pilot for refusing to reveal himself when all along he knew it was he himself that they sought. And at the very same time, Dante was angry at himself for how everything had turned out. He had allowed himself to believe that Heero would agree to give them what they wanted; yes he had been prepared for the opposite but had not seriously thought it would be necessary.

He shook his head, there was nothing he could do to change the events of the past day, all that was left was to try and finish this as quickly as possible. With a steady hand Dante stuck the keys which would unseal the door before him, and watched as it slid past revealing Heero's prone form to his eyes.

The small Japanese man lay unaware among all the tubs and wiring, the centre of the room's activity. Dante stood within the doorway contemplating the former pilot noticing that, despite his vulnerable state, there was still an air of danger surrounding his unconscious form. The technicians in the room moved about him as though afraid he would leap to his feet at any minute. A tiny smile touched the leaders lips, he wondered now why he had never noticed this before. So much of Heero's personality and training pointed to something definitely beyond that of a normal soldier. He supposed that it was a mix of both age and height that had kept Dante from this conclusion.

It was no wonder to him that OZ had not really made it common knowledge that the `men' they were fighting were nothing more than mere boys. There was too much of a chance of sympathies, swaying the people away from their goals. Shaking his head Dante blinked away his useless thoughts, and stepped into the room, shifting among the workers as though he was not even there, and came to a stop at Heero's side.

His street cloths had been stripped away, and been replaced with something a little more practical. Pale blue pants clad his lower half, designed with numerous snaps up the sides, allowing the medics access to the electrodes, they were using to keep up his muscle tone. Just as he had tried to make this easy for Relena so too did he want to do the same for Heero, though for him it would be more difficult as he was likely to be in the VR for far longer than the princess. A short sleeved shirt clothed his upper half, one that crossed over the front and tied in place, yet again allowing for quick access to his vitals.

Dante's attention moved to the IV bag dripping a steady flow of bluish liquid into Heero's right arm. Reaching up he touched the bag, turning it one way, than the other as he considered its contents. Adnolprinaminophen, was a drug created many years ago, but quickly abandoned when it did not meet the standards set at the time. Because of this, the drugs full potential had never been reached. It had been Dante's good fortune, that a scientist on the colony had been doing some intensive research on the drug. And quite by accident discovered this little uniqueness about it.

It was not a drug to be taken lightly; there had been good reason for its shutdown all those years back. The drug was highly addictive, and the withdrawal symptoms harsh, and since it showed the best results when the patient was dehydrated the medics were continually walking a fine line. There had not been such a worry over Relena; she had not been in the system long enough to start worrying about the consequences of re-hydrating her only to dehydrate her again. Dante had reviewed everything concerning these side effects, wanting to make sure that everything would be done to keep Heero from suffering from any.

Yet it really didn't matter how careful any of them were, the road to recovery from this procedure would never be a pleasant or easy one, for any who were put through it. It had been by no means easy for Dante to decide on this method, but the needs of his people had stood above everything. And he truly felt that in the end, no permanent harm would befall either Relena or Heero. His thoughts turned then to the princess, now resting in a more comfortable room, it was his intention to send her out on a shuttle along with her guards, soon within the next few hours. He wanted her to be back in the proper hands.

It was a tricky procedure now, as he did not want to leave Relena nor her guards unattended on the shuttle, as none would be conscious. Yet at the same time he could not risk one of his men being caught. In the end he had settled on sending a single medic part way, once the shuttle reached a safe point in space—where guessing which colony it had originated from would be impossible—he would depart. Leaving a beacon to send out a signal Une's agents would be sure to find quickly. Dante had prepared a message for them, assuring them that Relena would be fine, though he knew full well that wouldn't assure them.

He blinked, "Status?" Dante questioned finally coming back to himself, and wonder at the passage of time.

"He's responding well to the drug, and is now dehydrated enough that he's in The World." A technician informed him, they had had Heero since the afternoon before, Dante had known that would be the answer given.

"Has he offered anything useful?" he inquired feeling a pang of guilt standing over the young man, and discussing such matters.

"Not as of yet sir, his memories are more closely guarded that the princess', we're having a little trouble finding anything of use." The man's tone was apologetic as he continued to stare at the screen before him. "Rick you okay in there? Need a break?" he asked of a man seated in a large chair pivoted almost horizontal.

Dante's eyes strayed to the man, considering him. When it had come to Relena's memories, all they had had to do was see them, a face, and they would have their pilot. Where Heero was concerned everything was a little different. They were trying to build Zero, and for that they needed to be there, closer to the action, feel what Heero was feeling, gain a better understanding. The half helmet covering Rick's head allowed for just that. It had always made Dante curious what it must feel like to ride in another man's mind. And he could not help especially wondering what was within Heero's, what it had been like to be a pilot at his young age, to have the weight of the world and colonies resting upon your shoulders.

"No that's fine," Rick answered finally his voice sounding slightly strained.

"If you wouldn't mind," the Free Born leader spoke up before he had even really considered what he was about to ask. All eyes in the room turned to him at that moment; "I'd like to see what he's remembering."

That gave everyone a moments pause, Rick even half removed the helm. Glances were exchanged, almost nervously on Rick's part as though he was unsure what to do. Finally a nod was given, and the red haired man pushed himself up from the chair, he did not appear all to thrilled about this but motioned for Dante to take the seat. A shiver of excitement raced along his spin as he settled himself in the comfortable chair. "Try and relax, if you fight against it, you'll end up with one hell of a headache," Rick warned before placing the helmet on Dante's head.

His eyes darted about nervously in the darkness waiting for something to change, even as he tried to calm himself, to relax and simply allow this to take him where it would. It was as if his eyes had suddenly been opened, and he was watching a fresh horror unfold before his eyes. Dante remembered this day all to well. It was the day a Gundam pilot had killed a shuttle load of pacifist, ending—for the time—all hope of peace talks. It had been unknown to the world, which of the pilots had been responsible; Dante could not remove the feeling of morbid curiosity at being able to see a deeper side of the closed mouth pilot, to see how he dealt with such a situation.

Horror could not begin to describe the raging emotions, which ate away at Heero's soul; the moment he was told the truth that he had been duped by OZ. A part of Heero's iron hard shield crumbled then, amidst the barrage of knife sharp emotions. Dante was shocked by their feel, it was if they had never before coursed through the veins of this young boy. And considering what he knew of Heero that did not seem too impossible.

Heero sat motionless within a world of his own as the other pilots fought bravely about him, trying their hardest to protect him from the violent attacks. His thoughts had turned almost completely inwards, and it was in these first few moments of critical realisation that Dante realised his error. The boy had experienced this before, once before, and the experience had cost him much.

No longer was Heero watching the battle or even the cockpit in which he was sitting; his thoughts were turned deeper, remembering a darker time. And in some perverted way drawing strength from it, the strength to bury what had happened, to fight of these foreign emotions. Pain assaulted Dante's mind, and for a moment he was positive someone had cut him, it was not until Heero's vision cleared that he fully took in what the boy was remembering. Shadows played about him inflicting pain seemingly at random, both physical and emotional, as they attempted to drive away what little humanity the boy had been born with.

It was now Dante's turn to feel utter horror, as he watched and felt the agony Heero was put through. It shocked him that Heero did not fight this unjust punishment, but merely sat there stoically accepting everything they threw. And just as they wanted he built up the barriers, baring off his humanity, anything that could cause him a moments pause in completing his mission. It was a single-mindedness that they were seeking, and these men were fully prepared to do anything to get it.

But Heero had no focus point now; he was adrift on a sea of emotions he was not prepared to contend with. They had made a critical error in his training, it was impossible to completely destroy his emotions, always leaving a slim chance that they could find their way around his carefully constructed barrier.

The Gundam pilots' resolve had been legendary, considering the obstacles that they had faced. Dante briefly wondered how far they could be driven in pursuit of their goals; it was only a passing thought when harsh memories flashed to the forefront of Heero's mind, as though he was trying to remind himself. The Japanese boy was standing facing out over the bitter cold, something small and familiar held tightly in his right hand. The only emotion that he felt was iron hard determination, and it became instantly clear to Dante that this boy was ready to give anything in pursuit of his mission, especially his life.

The explosion's force was earth shattering, and sent the boy's body flying through the razor sharp shrapnel. Dante tried very hard to root himself back in the chair that he was merely watching from, but it was hard. It felt to him like he was being thrown along with Heero, his own body being torn up, as he bounced like a broken doll across the ground.

"Heero!!" The boy heard his name being called, and the fog of his memories fell away as they were replaced with the single-minded resolve that he had been trained to have at all times. Instantly all the emotions were gone from the boy's body, he was nothing more than a shell of a human being. A shell possessing reprehensible knowledge of death and destruction. The door of the cockpit opened and Dante felt himself fall through as Heero leaped from the relative safety, into the missile silo below. His mind was racing a full five steps ahead preparing himself for all the ways the mission could turn sour, and just how to counter each one.

Dante was put in awe of the boy's raw skill, and he watched with extreme fascination as the one time dire situation was safely averted. He had heard a great deal about this over the news, but it was the usual rehashing of old information, no one seemed to quite know what had happened. All the news reported was that the Gundam pilots—in a supreme attack against the peace—had slaughtered the pacifist, there had certainly been nothing about those same pilots saving that part of the world from a cataclysmic explosion.

Dante blinked away his distracting train of thought, and saw a cheep wooden floor beneath Heero's feet. For a moment it was a mystery to him where they stood, but it became clear as he could feel Heero's thought about the safe house, but those were only an aside to his need to be alone. He passed quickly through rooms with his head down, only partially aware of those nearby. Dante jumped slightly, willing Heero to raise his head, and look at the boys standing near him, knowing full well that they were the other Gundam pilots. Curiosity more than need drove his desire to know them.

But of course Heero's head remained angled as it had been that day he truly did walk those dusty floors, and Dante felt a sharp stabbing pain as he struggled unconsciously against the direction they were going. Stifling a groan, he brought himself back, remembering the warning Rick had given; he was but a rider in all this and could do nothing but follow the wave of Heero's memories.

The fifteen year-old boy shut the door behind him with a resounding crash, which echoed almost endlessly through the hallow safe house. It was inside this room that the realisation of his actions truly hit Heero, and he sank to his knees on the dirty floor. He backed himself quickly into a corner and pulled his knees against his chest. But what came next was not what Dante had expected; no emotions rose from the depth to try and claim him, on the contrary there was only a void. A deep swelling nothing and it like the emotions of before hungered, trying to swallow Heero whole. It terrified Dante to be thrown so callously into this swirling void, but Heero seemed not to care or even to notice.

His ears caught the soft knock of someone rapping their knuckles upon the thin door, but Heero did not move and inch. He remained huddled in his corner, a picture of a broken boy, something Dante had never expected. The door creaked open who ever it was not waiting for a response. All that came into Heero's view was a pair of dusty boots.

"Heero look at me. . ." a voice bade. Dante would not have called it gentle, but at the same time it was not harsh, it was a quiet monotone, one that could not reach Heero.

He did not shift an inch, Dante was not even sure he had heard, Heero was entirely fixated on the void, almost willing it to swallow him. Heero hated himself for what he had done, that stood out the clearest to Dante, he blamed himself for the deception.

"Heero?"

Dante's curiosity was gnawing at him. He wanted to know who it was, wanted another face to give one of the pilots. But Heero refused to acknowledge, would not look up, no matter how much Dante mentally screamed for him to. Pain seared him, and he had to fall back ever remaining a simple watcher.

The young boy sighed finally once again breaking the silence. "Suit yourself, you know it wasn't your fault," he treated it like a statement of fact. But it was a fact Heero refused to accept.

A tiny shake of his head was all Heero offered to say that he both heard and disagreed. All he truly wanted was to be alone, to deal with these events on his own, to find his own way around them. The presence finally walked away, whether satisfied by the smallest of acknowledgements or simple losing patience Dante did not know. Yet once he was gone and Heero was alone to once again think only of the horrific event, the emotions were to powerful, and Dante truly believed he would lose himself within them.

Desperately he searched for an escape, but found himself too bound in, he was a part of Heero, and could not longer feel his body seated in the chair the helmet on his head. A near blinding panic took him then, and he struggled frantically, wanting to scream but finding no voice. Light returned to him then, and along with it a reassuring hand upon his arm, as the helmet was removed. His breathing ragged, Dante did not speak for several moments, attempting to bring himself back under control. He gripped the armrest of the chair with a fierce hold, arms trembling, and knuckles white.

"I'm sorry Sir," Rick was saying to him, "I should have warned you how much he can draw you in."

It was several more moments before Dante finally turned his head to the voice, "What?" he managed to ask.

"Heero," he began thumbing in the former pilot's direction; "His memories are intense, they try to pull you in, I should have warned you about that." Stroking his chin with one hand Rick twisted to contemplate the small Japanese man; "It's almost as if he's doing it on purpose…"

Dante moved to shift off the chair, but halted as a knife sharp pain drove itself into his temple. Stifling a groan he shrugged aside the concerned hands, and forced himself to stand. One hand remained on his temple as he looked to address the men in the room. "I want nothing, save what links to the building of Zero, to be recorded, absolutely nothing." it was all too personal. He had just witnessed a side of Heero, he had not known existed, and strongly felt he was never supposed to have known.

"Yes Sir" a chorus of voices intoned seriously, and Dante nodded in satisfaction, walking back towards the door.

"I want continual updates," he informed them, though this they already knew. "I'll be at my office," with that he walked from the room, his once steady step now fighting the tremble of his unbalanced nerves.

***

With the curtains closed and the lights dimmed Ash sat alone in his apartment eyes staring forward but not really seeing. He had gone to see Heero, and the sight had affected him more than he would have expected. It had been a shock to see his friend lying there attached to all those machines, completely helpless and unaware. He had also noticed then the many bruises and abrasions that Heero had sustained in his attempted escape, though they were still nothing in comparison to the damage he had inflicted upon the men sent to stop him.

None of that had really been much of a surprise, what had shocked him though was the revelation that Heero's brand had not been real. The medic there had accidentally removed the carefully constructed `brand' while preparing him. This left a great many question, in all of their minds, it made absolutely no sense to Ash. Why on earth would Heero wear a fake brand? Not only was the brand itself something that didn't really fit with what he knew of the Japanese man. But why wear something that would never be seen?

It hurt his head just thinking about it, and he had tried his hardest to move his attention to something else. Yet however much he tried to focus on something that didn't involve the Japanese man Ash invariably found his thoughts back in that direction. Ash found it hard to believe even now that the man he had known and worked with for three years was really one of the pilots that they had been seeking. He supposed the hints were there, if any of them had been attuned to see them. Much about Heero had stood out odd to Ash but at the times he had simply accounted it to a rough childhood.

Nevertheless there was one time in particular that stood out to him now. . .

~Ash stepped out of his apartment with a sigh, the weather on the colony had been mild over the last few days, and he could no longer stand to remain locked up in his house. Without a real direction in mind Ash just started walking, his long stride carrying him through the city. It was getting on to twilight, the time of the day he enjoyed the most, just when shadows were lengthening, and the city was coming alive with its night activities. He thought it almost magic to watch the lights dim, and mysteriously the people around him changed. No longer mothers with children, and the elderly; but men just finished work, and young people looking for a good time.

Halting at a corner, Ash leaned himself against a wall, and watched as the world unfolded around him. The last week had been a dull one, Heero had disappeared somewhere leaving him no one to harass, or at least go to the pubs with. Though the Japanese man was a hard one to convince for that. He had asked Heero once outright, why he only drank at certain times, but his friend had just walked away. Ash knew when not to push things, and this was definitely a subject that should not be forced. Yet thinking about drinking, brought to his attention just how dry his throat was.

He did not instantly head off towards a bar, Ash was not entirely sure that's where he wanted to be right now. It wasn't that he didn't like to drink alone, that had never bothered him, more to the point there was this nice establishment about three blocks down with a pretty little waitress just coming on shift whom he liked to sit and chat with. It was more like he felt he was waiting for something, though he was not at all sure what.

Scanning the street Ash searched faces, but saw no one particularly important among them. The noise of the colony had shifted gears, from the productive hum of everyone working, to the low rumble of heavy bass music. It was amazing to him how that one sound seemed to define the night for him. Ash blinked away those sudden thoughts and tuned out the sounds, focusing his attention more completely on the people walking about him searching for the one he knew had to be there.

Ash's face broke out into a smile, when his hazel eyes finally landed upon a welcomed face. Heero just exited a pub across the street from Ash, and continued on his way with head down and one hand crammed into his pocket. This set off alarm bells in Ash's head, ~when did he get back?~ he wondered silently. There was something about the way his friend moved that did not seem quiet right, and Ash quickly pushed himself away from the wall to follow after Heero.

The small man walked down the shadowed streets without meeting any resistance from the slowly growing crowds, instead they seemed to part before him. Ash smirked, they probably weren't even aware that they were doing it, there was just something in Heero's personality that forced everyone away. . .everyone that was except for Ash. Lengthening his stride he closed the distance and called out, "Hey Heero!" no response, "Why didn't you tell me you were back?"

This time Heero's head came up, and he locked his cold hard gaze on Ash, it was something he had witnessed a number of times before, and had managed to stare down every one of those. Yet this time there was something different about it, an unknown spark hidden deep within those endless depths. It screamed to Ash that everything was not as it should be. "What's the matter?" he asked trying to sound light and cheerful knowing that concern would only drive his friend deeper into himself.

"Nothing. . ."was the cold respond as Heero continued down his street, obviously making his way back to his apartment.

"Now I know that's not true," Ash responded, but decided it was best to leave it at that until they were off the public street. Heero seemed not to care that Ash followed so close beside him, and considering the agitated set of his shoulders this seemed odd. He would have fully expected Heero to tell him to get lost, but he said nothing.

With his worry growing, Ash was greatly relieved that Heero's apartment was actually really close by. It was right near the centre of the city, allowing Heero to walk were ever he needed to be. He kept a careful eye on his friend trying to pinpoint what seemed so off about him, but was met with little luck as the continued to move through the lights and shadows of the street. They reached his apartment building a few minutes later, and Ash silently wondered which path they would be taking to Heero's floor.

It shocked him completely when Heero chose the elevator, he could not remember the last time he had seen him use it. Ash didn't understand why Heero used different entrances and exits, never using the same one twice in a row, it was almost like he thought someone was watching him. In any case the elevator was one he had never seemed to touch, perhaps to open to the public in his eyes. Yet today that seemed not to matter, and he stepped in and hit the button for his floor.

Heero leaned heavily against the wall his eyes lidded, as though he hadn't slept in a long time. Ash's hazel eyes scanned him over now he was bathed in the clear lights of the elevator, and he noticed for the first time the thick dark jacket Heero was wearing. "Aren't you a little hot in that?" he asked breaking the wall of silence between them. The Japanese man's eyes flickered over but that was the only acknowledgement that he gave. Ash shrugged mentally and continued his search, seemingly without thought Heero's left arm moved to grip his upper right. Ash was about to question his friend about that when the elevator came to a stop and Heero stepped off.

Following down the dimly lit hall Ash didn't even have to wait a second for Heero to unlock and open the door. He walked into the dark apartment hearing more than seeing his friend take off his coat. Heero seemed just as comfortable in the darkness, and did not appear to be moving towards any light switches, Ash on the other hand liked to see what he was doing. More importantly Ash wanted a better look at his friend, something he couldn't do with everything cloaked in blackness. Blinking back the sudden brightness Ash looked at his friend, and sucked in his breath.

Heero's right arm was covered in blood, most of it dried, but there was still some fresh that Ash could see. It all originated from a rough bandage around his upper arm. "What happened?" he asked taking a step towards Heero. His friend took a step back, holding the distance between them, but said nothing. "Let me take a look at it Heero, you're still bleeding," he wondered how long Heero had been bleeding, and what had caused it. Much to Ash's surprise Heero just shrugged and walked deeper into the apartment.

Ash shook his head trying to shake off the daze he had suddenly been thrown in, and stepped after his friend. They sat down on Heero's couch Ash taking the right side eyes just staring at the blood soaked cloth and arm, "Heero…tell me what happened…" but his friend remained silent. With a sigh Ash reached for the bandage and began to untie it, half his attention on Heero's face waiting for a reaction to what he must have been feeling, but there was nothing. The more he unwrapped the wound the more heat he could feel radiating off of it. "I think it's infected. . ." Ash spoke more to himself now than Heero whose cobalt eyes were focused on nothing.

Removing the last concealing layer Ash gasped, his face contorting into a grimace, "You've been shot!" it was an exclamation of shock, something he knew Heero was already aware of. "Why haven't you gone to the hospital?!" his wounded friend just turned to stare at him, saying nothing. ". . . right" he breathed shaking his head, "Remember who you're talking about here."

Ash switched on a nearby table lamp to bath the wound in a brighter light, "Is the bullet still in there?" he asked pressing around the wound, Heero gave no reaction, not to the pain or question asked. It was a question he could easily answer himself just by looking for the exit wound but he did not want to leave a silence between them if it could be help. Ash had handled his fair share of gunshot wounds during the war; it had been a necessity that everyone know what to do in this situation. He had hoped at the end of the war that he had seen his last bullet wound, but that was clearly not meant to be.

"Where do you keep your first aid kit?" Heero's head came up, and vaguely looked off down the hall. "Alright. . ." he said with a sigh coming to his feet, as he made to cross the room something sitting on the table caught his eye. Reaching down Ash took hold of the TV's remote and switched the power on, welcoming anything that would break the ceaseless silence. Not wanting to leave his friend alone for long Ash quickly moved to the bathroom, searching out the needed item with little trouble, and returned just as the news was continuing.

". . .our top stories. . ." he glanced at the screen seeing a pretty woman sitting behind the desk. Sitting down beside Heero again Ash kept part of his attention on the news, he hadn't had a chance to catch up on the days news yet. ". . .Change Wufei, bodyguard to Relena Peacecraft was found shot twice and left in an alley for dead, early this morning."

Ash jumped when Heero flinched, he had been working on the wound without any recognition, so it came as quite a shock when he suddenly pulled away. "I'm sorry, if I hurt you" Ash told him, but was met with further surprise when Heero turned to him with a questioning expression, almost as though he had no idea what Ash was talking about.

". . .Very little is known about what happened, witnesses say they heard three shots fired. . ."That snapped Ash back into the present, as the pieces began to fall into place. "We're going live now to Christina Dimingo, stationed right outside the alley. Christina what can you tell us?"

A small Asian nodded as if to an unseen cue and began to speak "Well Janis, the policewere apparently called to the scene by Chang himself just before he was shot. We don't know yet what was going on, or who the shooter is, but the police seem to know who it is they are looking for."

"And have they released that information to the press?"

Christina glanced behind her to the very alley in question; "Strangely enough they have not. I asked one of the officers earlier about this need for secrecy. . ."

"Heero?" Ash asked softly, the mere use of his wounded friends name was enough to convey his questions.

The Japanese man just shook his head; eyes shielded from view and came to his feet. He was pulling into himself shutting out the world, Ash wasn't sure was made him think that, very little had changed about the way Heero usually behaved. His eyes locked upon his right hand, and Ash could see his muscles tense, he knew this was not a good sign but was at a loss for words that could possible break Heero's building anger. Ash came to his feet but kept a safe distance back, and Heero's left hand slowly found it's way to the bullet wound.

Everything seemed to freeze as Heero's head finally came up his cobalt eyes glinting with a darkly consuming light as his left hand gripped his arm causing blood to leak out from between his fingers. Ash winced visibly knowing full well just how much that would have been hurting, yet Heero seemed not to care. He was obviously trembling as he tried to contain himself, one word slipped passed his lips before he moved from the room "Damnit."

Ash was left standing there in shock, his mind reeling. ~I'm never going to understand you. . .~ he thought as his mind played over all that had happened trying desperately to make some sense of it. On the TV discussion of the shooting were still taking place, and somehow they made their way through the fog that clouded his mind. ". . .He was rushed to the colony's General Hospital, and was listed in critical condition. . ."

With a sigh Ash raked a hand through his short hair, and grabbed the first aid kit. As much as he wanted to sit down and try and sort this all out he still needed to take care of Heero's injured arm. He left the room leaving the TV to fill the silent void.~

Thank you for reading! ^_^

The End of a Nightmare:

"It's been two years," Wufei said finally, "Does it really matter now?"

"Now more that ever, yes I think it does," his friend was quick to respond. He rested against the wall arms folded easily but that determined air was still thick about him.

The Chinese man pushed himself in to sitting position, "What happened then won't change what's going on now. I think we'd do better to remain focused on that," he couldn't understand why this simple request was getting him so agitated.

"Why won't you tell us?"

"I. . .don't know. . ." he said pulling a hand over his smooth hair, "I don't see what difference it makes."

"Humour us," Duo said entering the room unannounced, and clearly possessing knowledge of what was going on.

"I thought you were piloting the shuttle."

Duo shrugged, a half smile touching his face, "I'm only really needed for take off and landing. So what's up, what happened that day?" Wufei just stared, cornered by his two trusted friends, "C'mon we can work the anger off when we get back."

Wufei looked at him, nothing in his expression changing, "Then wouldn't it be better to wait until we're back?"

"Hell no, the only way I can hope to beat you is to cultivate my anger for a few hours," Duo told him with a cheeky smile. For some reason it bothered Wufei that he could almost be completely flippant about this, though he knew beneath the exterior layer Duo was as hurt as the rest of them if not more so. "So…" he bade face as set as Trowa's was.

Sighing Wufei's eyes dropped as his memories flowed back to that day, even two years later He could remember each moment as though it had just happened. . .

Morganeth Taren'drel