Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Mistaken Words ❯ A Gift of Strength ( Chapter 35 )

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

Mistaken Words

Thanks to morgansgirl and Pious Knight! Without them, this story wouldn't be readable (smiles)

Disclaimer: I still don't own Gundam Wing.

A Gift of Strength

John stepped across the threshold entering the monitoring room where Wufei sat with his eyes on a computer screen. The Chinese man looked up at the doctor's approach, his expression unreadable as he rose to greet John. “How's he been?” he asked, turning his attention to Heero's vitals being displayed on a few of the screens.

“I've tried to give him as much space as possible today,” Wufei said, stroking his chin absentmindedly. “Relena came to see him earlier today…not sure if that helped him at all…”

“Does she know what happened?” John asked suddenly straightening and turning his full attention to Wufei.

The former pilot shook his head, “Not exactly, she knows Luc threatened him, but not that he was tortured.”

“That's probably for the best…” John mused, even now he felt a gnawing ache at the core of his being born from thoughts of the torture Heero had suffered through. John forced the thoughts aside, “Has he had anything to eat?”

“Yeah a little, I didn't really want to press him…” Wufei answered putting his hands into his pockets.

John nodded, “I'll go and give him something now,” he stepped away from the table, and moved to a small refrigerator against the far wall where small portions of Heero's food were stored. “How's your arm?” John asked, as he removed one of the containers and popped in into the microwave that rested above. He had almost forgotten that event of the night before. to look at Wufei now you'd be hard pressed to say where he had been injured, he moved just as easily as a man completely sound.

“It's fine,” he answered quickly, and John had to smile privately to himself, remembering the challenge it had been to get Wufei to take the mediation the night before. Silently he wondered if Heero would become more difficult as he got better. If so, John welcomed the challenge.

Taking the now-warm container form the microwave John turned to Wufei with a smile, “You should get some sleep,” he straightened and made his way back towards the door.

“One more thing, John,” Wufei said to John's back, causing him to turn about, “Make sure he knows you're coming in.” Wufei's expression at that moment was particularly hard for the doctor to read. He looked somewhat unsure, but to what it was related John couldn't say. “He's been really jumpy since last night.” He didn't look pleased about that. Perhaps—John thought—Wufei was unsure of what all this meant, of how to handle Heero as he was presently. John couldn't blame him, it wasn't easy for any of them.

John was not in the least bit surprised to hear that Heero was having further reactions to Luc's torture, beyond his extreme anger the night before. He found himself feeling overwhelmed for a few brief seconds as he tried to consider all that he might now be dealing with. He didn't know where to begin. John had never been trained to handle a patient who had been tortured, mentally speaking there was just so much he didn't understand, so he didn't know what to expect. It took a great deal of effort, but John managed to force those thoughts aside, at present there was nothing he could do beyond taking this one day at a time and strengthen the trust Heero already had. “I'll keep that in mind,” he said finally, continuing on to the door.

Walking the short distance to Heero's room, John reached out a hand to knock sharply upon the surface of the door. He worried if the sudden noise might not be as bad as someone walking in unannounced, but he couldn't think of anything better at the moment. Swiping his card John walked across the threshold to be met with a dark look form Heero it softened a little when the boy's eyes focused on John's face, but that wasn't saying very much. John left the container of food on the counter and crossed over to Heero's bedside. “How's the pain?” it was a pointless question.

“Fine,” John silently spoke the very same word Heero said in a dead voice. He had never heard any different from the boy, and doubted he ever would. That didn't worry him though, he could read Heero, perhaps not his thoughts or feelings, but the boy couldn't hide his pain, just as he couldn't fake sleep. John had fathered many children, they had all tried similar things with the same results, although he had to admit Heero was far better than his children had ever dreamed of being.

John looked the boy over, he had carefully checked all his injuries the night before to make sure Luc hadn't aggravated or reopened any of them, especially the one on his pelvis, where John had been told Luc was sitting. Some of the stitches on that one had unfortunately been pulled, they had been taken care of though, and could be left to heal once more. The stitches had been in for double the time usually necessary in most patients, but Heero's body just didn't have anything to offer twenty days back. Now, however, was a different story. They had Heero eating more, and he was managing to keep all of it down. He still slept mostly, but when he was awake he was more alert than he had been.

He was inclined to give them a few more days before he would be comfortable taking them out. John wondered if that event might brighten Heero's mood some, he was aware that Heero's anger and frustration had been building rather quietly over the past few weeks, but had only come to light after Luc came. Now a lot of those strong emotions were linked to the torture, but John didn't doubt, a good deal was still fuelled by his lack of progress, or at least lack of visual progress. John blinked suddenly giving his head a brief shake, he couldn't just stand there lost in his own thoughts. If Heero was wondering at the long silence, he gave no outward sign of it, his eyes were focused on the far wall, most likely watching the clock, as he had a habit of doing.

Taking hold of the container of still-warm food, John reached for the controls to Heero's bed, and raised it up so the boy was in a half sitting position. John didn't like this uncomfortable silence, but couldn't think of something that felt right to say. Heero's eyes turned to regard John then and the doctor could see a smouldering anger there, but it wasn't directed at him, not entirely at least. “Why are you here?” the boy asked suddenly voice monotone, though there was an odd stress on `you'.

John looked down at the boy, considering the question for a long time, it seemed to John as though Heero were driven by something to ask that question, but he didn't know what. So he tired to think of how best to answer it, not knowing exactly what Heero was looking for. Did he want the exact reason for this visit, which was of course to check on his condition, and give him something to eat, or did he want something less obvious? Finally John decided on an answer he thought would cover both, “Because I care, and you need to eat.”

Heero stared at him pointedly, making it clear in his own silent way, that that was not the answer he had been looking for. At the same time his eyes turned away as though he was content to just let the matter drop there. John pulled the plastic spoon from its place in the lid, as he put it on the table, he had no intention of letting that odd bit of conversation be the end of it, he wanted to know what Heero was thinking, what had prompted it. John gave himself a little time to organise his thoughts as he stirred Heero's food around. The boy had made it past the broth to something more substantial, John wasn't all that fussy on the look of it, kind of like runny oatmeal. Heero seemed to like it well enough, which wasn't saying very much.

“Why did you want to know?” he asked giving Heero the first spoonful, and watched as the boy's eyes remain turned away from John's face. He wasn't surprised by Heero's silence, nor was he deterred, “My wife worries about me,” he began as he continued to feed the boy, finding the act more comfortable if he was talking, for some reason. “She's always reminding me not to get emotionally involved,” John smiled to himself, “It's never been a problem for me before, sure there are times when you can`t help but feel like a failure, but I've always managed to keep myself mostly separate.” Heero was watching John now through the corner of one eye, “It wasn't like that with you, I was emotionally involved the moment I walked through that door.”

Heero's head finally turned towards John, “Why?” he asked after swallowing a mouthful of the food.

John blinked looking down at the boy, that was not a hard question to answer, “Because you needed help.” Every patient John had ever treated had needed help, so that answer might not have sounded like much, but for Heero it had been different. He had been in a hard situation, one he would not have survived without proper help.

“But why believe me?” Heero asked, after a moment's thought, his eyes impossible for John to read as they watched him, waiting for an answer.

“Your eyes didn't lie,” he told him quickly, they might be hard to read now, but when Heero had been explaining himself John could see right to their depth, and knew the truth.

A sceptical light entered Heero's eyes then, but it looked unsure as though the boy didn't know what to think, “I lied for three years.”

He was searching for something, that much had become clear to John, but he wasn't sure what the boy really wanted to know. “What does this matter now?” he asked gently putting the container aside as Heero had eaten it all, which pleased John greatly. He didn't particularly like fighting with the boy over it, but did and would when necessary.

Heero's eyes looked away from John's then, “It doesn't,” it sounded like the was shrugging the conversation off.

“I don't believe that,” John countered remaining where he was seated on the edge of Heero's bed. “You wanted to know, I'm just not sure I understand what you want to know…” he left it open hoping Heero would clarify what he was looking for.

Silence was Heero's answer for several long minutes, but John was content to wait the boy out, “…Maybe I don't either…” he responded finally, eyes half closed and still watching the clock on the far wall.

John let the silence stretch on, as he tried to think of what else to say. He half believed what Heero said, he was pretty sure the boy knew what he wanted to know; what he didn't know was how to phrase or even ask his questions. So what could have sparked this sudden interest? Uncomfortable with just sitting there staring at the boy John reaching out for Heero's right wrist, and proceeded to check his pulse. His mind turned over what he knew of today, trying to think if something had happened to trigger this. Wufei had been giving Heero his space, but Relena had been here. John slowly lowered the boy's wrist back onto the covers and looked more closely at Heero's face. “I know Relena was here to see you, might this have something to so with that?” he asked gently.

Heero could not hide his slight flinch at the question, but that was the only reaction he gave, “Forget about it,” the words were spoken tiredly but there was a distinct strength to them, almost a warning. John knew now that he had hit on something, and he wasn't about to back down.

“Why?” he demanded managing to find a balance between stern and understanding, “It's clear something's bothering you enough that you're asking me.” That fact had not been lost on him at any moment, and as with some many other times John felt truly honoured to be trusted by this boy, “I'm just trying to find out what it is.”

A sigh escaped the boy, and John found himself holding out hope that Heero would find the words he had been missing earlier, and better explain what he needed to know. “Doesn't matter,” was the response John's patience gained him. Heero hadn't looked at him at all, and didn't appear to be interested in the conversation any more.

John was half surprised by the spark of anger that answer ignited in him, “So that's it then?” there was more heat to his words now. “You'll just ignore it? Pretend like there's nothing wrong?”

“Why do you care!” Heero's eyes turned back to John his voice was harsh, but John hardly heard it, all he could notice was that unsure light had re-entered Heero's eyes.

John smiled down at the boy, “Because that's what humans do.” It felt odd to say such a thing, it felt as though he were explaining natural behaviour to Heero, as though he didn't know how to be human. But perhaps he didn't, as far as his file read, Heero had been raised a solider, emotions, second guessing trained out of him. He tried to imagine what it must be like to not know what you really were, to not understand how to react to emotion within you, John actually found it to be a rather scary thought.

Heero's eyes had widened a little at John's strong statement, but they quickly fell almost closed. John could tell the boy was tired, and he lowered a hand to Heero's shoulder, “Get some sleep,” he bade getting slowly too his feet. “I'm just going to take a blood sample alright?” Heero's eyes were entirely closed now, but he nodded his head in response to John question, and the old doctor quickly gathered what he'd need.

He knew it wouldn't take him long to do, taking blood was something John was required to do so often he would have been comfortable doing it in his sleep. Heero was no stranger to it either, having had to put up with countless needles either taking blood from him, or putting something back in. So it came a quite a shock to John when the boy jumped at his touch trying to pull his arm away. John had taken a gentle hold of Heero's arm so he could prepare it, but the moment he had taken a firmer hold to pull the limb away from Heero's body, the boy had reacted violently. Heero's eyes flew wide and he pulled at his arm, as much as his muscles would respond to him. Caught off guard John immediately let go, afraid he had hurt the boy, “Heero what's the matter? Did I hurt you?” he asked very concerned, looking the boy over he couldn't see anything that he might have hurt.

The boy didn't respond to him, panic vanished from his eyes in a heartbeat, and he closed them once again. He was pretending nothing happened, John stood there motionless staring down at the boy. Heero had never reacted this way before and the old doctor knew immediately that this was yet another by-product of Luc's torture. John gave Heero a few moments, watching as his breathing evened out, and outwardly he appeared to have relaxed. “Heero, is it alright if I try that again?” he broke the silence finally wary of touching the boy, for fear of another reaction.

“Yeah…” Heero breathed shallowly.

Not entirely sure what had set Heero off, John approached him carefully and only took a light hold of the boy's arm, which he could immediately feel was tense. John completed his work in record time and settled the blankets over Heero's thin frame before he made his way towards the door. He wanted to research post traumatic stress disorder, and see what he might be able to discover that would help Heero. Whether the boy would accept said help was another matter to be dealt with at another time. All John knew, was that he could not ignore this as Heero was so willing to do, it would only end up getting worse for him anytime someone was around him.

John let a long held sigh escape him once he was standing safely out in the hall, this was the last thing any of them had needed. Everyone was already walking on eggshells around Heero, and now to be worried about setting him off, it was not going to make the others coming to him easier. Then again, John remembered Duo helping him the night before, it's true Heero wasn't awake for that, and therefore there had not been as much tension. But Duo had been adamant and very determined, he was not going to let anything else happen to Heero, he would be there for his friend no matter how hard those first steps would be.

WMWMWMW

Heero jerked awaked violently. He didn't realise when he had climbed from the darkness of sleep to the grey void of being half awake, but the moment he made it there Heero knew he wasn't alone. A wave of panic overpowered his senses in the first few seconds, and he found it incredibly difficult to keep his breathing natural. Someone was standing in his room. At first that was all Heero could think about. He forced the panic aside, letting anger replace it. He could work with that emotion, and better analyse who was watching him. In the seconds that passed Heero realised the one watching him was someone with whom he was very familiar, not a threat. That knowledge, however, did not relax him, his anger turned to a fiery frustration at his situation. Taking a moment Heero tried to bring his irritation under control before he made the effort to open his eyes, and look into the face of a friend he hadn't yet seen.

Trowa stood at the foot of his bed head down, eyes hidden behind his auburn hair. Heero raised his head from the pillow behind his head, trying to better see what Trowa was looking at. The movement, as subtle as it had been, was enough to alert Trowa's observant senses and his head came up slowly. His emerald eye was unreadable in the shadows of the room and he said nothing, just watched with his body ridged against the wall. Heero's focus turned away from the silent man's eyes to the rest of him, noting an object held within Trowa's hands. It had a metallic glint to it, but Heero couldn't see much beyond that. He could feel a finger of panic reach up from somewhere deep within him to tug at his heart, but he forced it aside, he would not fear a friend, he would not fear anything!

For a long time they remained that way watching each other in an uncomfortable silence, neither appearing to know what to say. Heero couldn't say he felt particularly like dealing with anyone at the moment, still he had not seen Trowa since this whole mess had been sorted out. He was glad to see another of his friends again, no matter how hard this first meeting could or would be. Trowa's eyes, concealing what he was actually thinking and feeling didn't remain on any one part of Heero for that long. For Trowa this was the equivalent of someone fidgeting nervously. Heero had always known his friend to have a steady gaze, one that you could not stare or glare down Trowa was the silent observer, never one to rush to judgment.

Heero's eyes flickered briefly to the door, hoping John would not come walking in at any moment. He felt very strongly that they shouldn't be interrupted. A barely audible sigh escaped Trowa as he finally seemed to come to a decision within himself as he pushed his long form off the wall and took a slow step towards the foot of Heero's bed. The item he carried in his hands became clearer to Heero then, and he immediately recognised it as a handgun. The brief panic from before didn't return now that he knew what it was, he was not afraid of Trowa. The silence continued to stretch on but Heero thought the other man was going to speak, so he was willing to wait him out.

In one fluid motion Trowa chambered a bullet and presented the gun to Heero grip first, the mask like expression of his face finally sliding away. What Heero saw now, he didn't quite know how to describe, it was remorseful and self hating, but there was something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. “I betrayed you…” Trowa said finally, eyes looking at the gun and not Heero. The Japanese man opened his mouth to object, but Trowa wasn't done “There was no excuse for it, you ask for my trust and I should have given it, as you trusted me during the war. I'm not worthy to call you friend,” his voice was utterly devoid, yet still managed to sound resigned as though this was a decision he had come to over time. His eyes fixed on Heero's face then, and he stepped closer pushing the gun to within Heero's reach, his unspoken request clearly showing in his eyes.

Heero's eyes widened at that, as he stared at the weapon being handed to him, what had Trowa done that left him believing this was the only way out? Heero tried to remember but his mind was foggy and not just from sleep, it had been difficult for Heero to clearly remember the events of the time before he had been accepted back by his friends. Perhaps in some sense that was a good thing, however if he wanted to convince Trowa otherwise, he'd need to know what to say. The memory came floating back to him slowly like a ship appearing out of the grey dawn, and Trowa's words stung just as much now as they had then. Heero's hand reached for the gun, he had to focus all his efforts into moving his arm away from the bed, but shakily he managed to do it. An unexpected sigh of relief escaped Heero's lips when his trembling hand finally closed about the pistol-grip.

It felt heavier than he remembered it being, but the feel was still so familiar, and it brought him a sense of relief, of control. It was a gift of power, he was no longer helpless needing to rely on those around him. Once Heero had the gun securely Trowa moved back to his position at the foot of the bed, his face yet again showing nothing. Heero's eyes studied the gun, looking over every detail despite the fact he had seen them a thousand times before. This was what he had been waiting for, Heero felt a certain calm wash over him, as the silent minutes continued to tick past and the weight and reassurance of the gun slowly drained some of his anger away. Finally his eyes looked to Trowa, who remained waiting, eyes not looking to Heero's face. A ghost of a smile touched his features briefly, Trowa had come here seeking punishment, but he didn't realise what his gesture had truly meant to Heero.

“I made you believe that,” Heero spoke into the harsh silence between them. He had said similar to everyone who had come to him so far, and it was true, he had made them believe he was a traitor. This should have all come back on him, but he could understand why it couldn't.

Trowa shook his head, as though that didn't matter to him at all, “I've thought about this for a long time…” he breathed slowly, his gaze moving up from the floor, but seeming unable to look Heero in the face. “There's just no excuse,” there was a note of finality to his voice, as he stood planted waiting for the bullet to pierce him.

The gun lowered to rest at Heero's side, not just because the weight was too much for his tired arm to bear. He wasn't going to shoot Trowa, it was out of the question, but how could he change this around, prove to Trowa there was another way, that this wasn't the end. Heero's cobalt eyes watched Trowa closely, “Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art…” he spoke slowly, the quote coming to him from a deep corner of his mind, “It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.” Heero remembered the first time he had heard that, Ash had said it two him several years back, when he had first begun to press himself into Heero's life.

“C.S. Lewis…” Trowa breathed after a moment, emerald orbs daring to look at Heero's face. The Japanese man wasn't surprised that he knew the quote. Trowa had always been a reader, more so after the war; Heero could remember seeing his friend with a book in hand almost all the time that he was not on duty guarding Relena.

“To be mad at someone-that's easy,” Heero spoke again, feeling like he might be gaining a little ground this way. “To be mad at the right person, for the right reason, at the right time and to the right degree-that is not easy,” he was unsure where and at what time he had picked that quote up, but it fit with the moment, which in the end was all that mattered.

A tiny smirk touched Trowa's face then, “Aristotle said that.”

Heero let his own smirk show on his face, “Thanks for the gift,” he said resting a hand upon the gun, still feeling that strong measure of relief.

Trowa stepped slowly around the bed, Heero would have almost called it hesitantly, and lowered himself into the chair close to the head of the bed. Once more the silence had returned, as Heero tried to slip the gun beneath the concealing blankets, he didn't want to make it known that he had such a weapon, not that he thought he'd be able to hide it for long. Reaching over with his newly freed left hand, Heero fumbled with it, finding his shaking limbs more than a little frustrating. Trowa reached out as though he intended to help, but his hand took hold of Heero's and he studied it, “What happened here?”

The former pilot looked to his palm, seeing the new scar that lined both the palm and back of his hand, from where Luc had stabbed him with a knife. “Luc,” was all he said for an answer, John had come in earlier in the night to remove some of the stitches, his leg, pelvis and hand were now freed, along with his right arm. But the ones put in after Luc's attack would be there for sometime yet. Still it was a step in the right direction, and Heero had found his mood lifted somewhat when John had come in to do this.

Without question Trowa lowered Heero's hand back to the bed, and lifted the blankets himself pulling them securely over the gun and Heero's right arm. “Does anyone know you're here?” Heero asked suddenly not entirely sure why he hoped the answer would be no.

Trowa's visible eye flickered to the camera in the corner of the room, “I'm clear for an hour,” he confirmer Heero's hope.

“Good,” Heero breathed his head falling to the side, “Keep it that way.”

The former Heavyarms pilot gave a start at that, “You want me to come back…” it wasn't exactly a question, it was more like Trowa was voicing how he truly felt. The relaxed way in which Trowa was sitting and talking with him, didn't mesh with what had happened before. Which lead Heero to believe he was looking at a mask, and Trowa's true feelings were still hidden deep within.

“I want to be back on my feet,” there was a hint of a growl in his voice, he had been on his back for far to long already. Trowa had been the one to get him there after he had self destructed Wing. It had been Trowa who patiently worked with him, and wouldn't let him push himself to hard. Heero was comfortable with that, he could work with Trowa in a way he thought would be to difficult for the others.

Trowa looked at Heero critically, actually reaching out to pull the blankets away from his thin body. “Still a ways off from that don't you think?” he asked bluntly eyes coming to a stop on Heero's face, it was a bluntness he didn't think any but John would be able to muster. Heero gave Trowa an unimpressed look, as the former pilot reached across Heero's body to take hold of his left hand. “These stitches came out recently, when?”

“Couple hours ago,” Heero admitted.

“Don't you think you should give yourself a little more time?” he asked back, his visible eyebrow lifting in question. Heero sighed silently, it was truth no matter how much he would like to deny it. Looking down at himself Heero had to admit he was still a long way off, and if Trowa was the one to work him back to his feet, he already knew it would be done on Trowa's terms.

Thanks for Reading!

Scars:

“Why would I blame you for something I chose to do?” he asked evenly eyes remaining steadily on Duo's face.

“We wouldn't listen to you!” Duo was quick to counter.

“You're listening now,” Heero was just as fast.

“That doesn't…it can't make up for it,” he shook his head adamantly taking two steps to put himself at the foot of Heero's bed. All the memories of what he had felt towards Heero came flooding back, he had said openly that Heero had to die! How could he ever come back from that, make it back to the friends they had been.

A spark of fire entered Heero's cobalt eyes, “What the Fuck could, Duo!” he demanded a hint of anger, or was it frustration entering his voice. “Nothing I want any of you to do! I don't blame you for what I made you believe, or how you acted!”

“You think that's going to help!” he challenged voice rise as it filled with his long pent up emotions, “I wish it could, but I'll always remember wanting you dead!” Duo couldn't believe he was admitting it, it was something he had never expected himself to say. But he thought it felt good to admit it, to no longer have it hanging silently over his head, in a place only he could see.

Heero shifted on the bed, and his right arm raised a little his hand resting on his chest, and held within it was a gun. Duo's eyes flew wide, where had he got that? “Is this what you want, then!” anger was the clear emotion in his voice then, as his thumb switched the safety off, “Will my killing you put everything right!”

Morganeth Taren'drel