Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Morning Will Come ❯ Part Eight ( Chapter 9 )

Title: Morning Will Come

Author: Emily, roguegirl@att.net

Warnings: yaoi, het, language, violence, possible OOC, EU?, un-betaed, less than lime but still sex [orange maybe? (it's pretty sappy, too)], weird dreams, bastardization, racial slurs (sorry! it's for the story, I swear! don't hurt me…)

Pairings: 1x2x1, 3x4, 5xM, 13x11

Archive: Want it? Take it. Just please give me credit.

Disclaimer: None of these characters and their personalities are mine, but the story's plot and concepts are mine, so please no stealing my creations. Unless you want to contribute accompanying art…then be my guest, but I want to see!

Comments: Sorry this took so long. Had major writers' block. Well, technically it was just on this fic because my muses wanted the ZER0 idea to get out in the open, so I have three parts of that and now I want to at least get this part of MWC done. ^_^ Morning Will Come

Part Eight

December 8, 1941

No one could think of anything to say to follow Churchill's speech. It was official; the whole world was going to war with itself, and all efforts to stop it were no longer peaceful.

The United States was going to war.

Americans were going to fight on foreign soil and die on foreign soil. Families would be torn apart, lives would be ruined.

But that's what the people wanted, isn't it?

*~**~*

December 11, 1941

It's been hard getting life the way it was before the bombing of Pearl Harbor. It was only four days ago, but it feels like four lifetimes.

Relena hasn't returned since we last saw her. I'm wondering if she really is going through with her threat, but she's too empty to try anything like. She can make threats, but she can't follow through with them.

But I still get scared. Scared that the military will come, knocking down the door, and accuse Heero of crimes he didn't commit. And then they'll take him away.

But they couldn't do that, could they? The US Congress declared war on Germany and Italy today, so now we really are at war with the whole world - Europe on one side, Asia on the other. If America sees the Japanese living within her borders as a threat, wouldn't the same have to be assumed of the German and Italian persons? There are anti-Semitics in this country. Will they be held on the same level as Hitler himself?

Quatre's been clogging the phone-line for the past three hours, now. I'd be on his case, but that wouldn't be right of me. Tears sprang to his eyes the second Hilde handed him the phone with a doleful expression on her face, but they became tears of joy almost instantaneously as he gave Hilde the bird and shared the good news.

Trowa's still alive.

We still haven't heard if he's sustained any injuries or why the hell he couldn't call earlier because my blond friend was slowly-but-surely having a mental breakdown, but everything seems to be all right for the moment.

Or at least as close to all right as things can seem in the middle of a war.

Thank God Trowa's all right. This means Quatre will go back to his place and stop spending nights on our sofa with the radio on next to his head. It's hard to resume normal, ahem, nocturnal pursuits with a depressed Quatre in the other room…a depressed Quatre who seemed constantly in between alertness and sleep.

I don't want to have to fight for the war. My father knew people that did, and I can't help but wonder what they would have been like if they hadn't seen the things they did. I will never be able to understand the basis behind the phrase "All's fair in love and war"[1]. War could never be fair. The victor in war is determined by whoever kills more of the other side's people, but thousands of people die on both sides; maybe I'm just missing something, but I wouldn't like to be recognized as the winner just because I killed more people than the other guy.

Hilde's talking to me right now. She thinks I'm doing something important besides just getting all my thoughts down on paper. And people say that I'm good at carrying a one-sided conversation…she isn't even paying attention to me for a response!

I got a letter from Solo yesterday. He told Mom he was going back to college, apparently, and he wants me to tell her where he really went.

Solo can be a real ass sometimes. He's a psychology major. Isn't he supposed to know that having me tell Mom is not going to alleviate the situation any? Fuck…

*~**~*

"Duo? Are you paying any attention?"

"Huh?" Duo's expression turned sheepish. "Sorry, Hilde. I was ignoring you. What were you saying?"

The small young woman rolled her eyes. "I said that there's a letter from Nakamura-san. It's even written in English. Really bad English, grant you, but I think I got the gist of it." Hilde looked up, expecting some sort of response, but the braided man just looked at his friend expectantly. "It's essentially saying how Nakamura-san hopes that the recent events between our two countries haven't affected your wish to continue business because the view of the country isn't always the same as the view of the businessman and something about wishing cranes to cover the globe."

Duo sighed, leaning into his hands. He could feel his sinuses flaring up and it was aggravating knowing that he would be in too much pain to open his eyes any minute now and he probably had things to get done. "Just tell them 'continue business as usual' or something. Keep it simple and try not to say it in a way that will confuse anybody."

"Sure, boss. I think I can manage that." She said with a wink and left.

*~**~*

Maybe I'm just afraid of death, and that's why I'm wishing the effects of the war could bypass us, somehow. Took me long enough to deal with Dad's. I couldn't imagine how I would tolerate the loss of Solo, Trowa, Quatre, or even Heero…

If there really is a God, why is He allowing people to suffer? I have heard rumors of Nazi death-camps in Germany where the people Hitler prosecutes die by the hundreds each day, just to satisfy some sick politicians. I have heard of Jewish immigrants pouring into the Eastern coast from Europe by the boatloads; they left everything at home because they were too scared to try to go back and get it, and conditions for them here aren't much better, but at least here they won't die at the hands of Hitler…

*~**~*

The bedroom door shut with a click that sounded louder in the quiet of the house.

"Trowa's alive," Duo said softly, trying not to destroy the solemnity of the atmosphere.

"I heard," came Heero's slightly accented response. That caught the American's attention automatically. His lover's Japanese accent didn't normally show unless he was extremely worn or stressed out. "Things aren't going to get any better."

"I know." Duo put the journal aside on the table next to the bed, watching Heero strip down to his underwear, and feeling the mattress sag under the other man's weight. Duo sought out his lover's warmth and curled against him. "I'm afraid of what might happen."

"We'll pull through," Heero placed a kiss on Duo's forehead, nose, cheek, and neck. "I promise," the punctuated the statement with a soul searing kiss, both young men searching for love, hope, and strength. Duo moaned in the back of his throat, and soon enough they both ended up naked, skin glistening with sweat in the soft moonlight, proclaiming undying devotion and unyielding promises into the nighttime air. When they collapsed, spent, on the mattress, neither had time to remember the war brewing around them; it was overridden with the sense of security in a lover's embrace.

*~**~*

Duo was floating somewhere; it looked like the ocean, a deep turquoise filled with swirls of bubbles, but he wasn't fighting for breath. The world was slow and dream-like, and empty. Duo tried to walk, but he couldn't seem to get anywhere, so he tried swimming. That got him a little farther, but something kept pulling him back. Something was holding him down so he couldn't move away.

Duo looked down at his wrists. Red ribbons held him captive, and they were around his ankles, as well. Curiosity peaked, Duo tried to find what these red ribbons were tying him to, and it didn't take him long to find out.

Heero was floating slightly below him in a ray of sunlight, but he didn't seem to be awake. The ribbons were tying them together, though, and they wouldn't come apart, but the ribbons didn't seem to be hindering any motion. They just kept him from traveling very far unless Heero went with him, but Heero didn't seem to be awake.

Duo moved closer to his Japanese husband. He knew their marriage wasn't illegal, but he still liked thinking that Heero was his, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part. Duo didn't believe that they parted at death, however. Death only served as a barrier when the spouses weren't in the same plane of existence, but when both have died, they were eternally together. Duo liked thinking that his parents would be reunited once his mother died. It made death seem less lonely.

Duo reached out and grabbed Heero's hand, eager to get a response out of him, but the second they made contact, they were transported out of the ocean-world and into a desert. The sun was hot and painful to look at; ugly, jagged rocky mountains could be seen a little ways off, and there seemed to be buses everywhere, but they were all empty - just row upon row upon row of empty buses.

"Heero!" Duo called out, and his lover turned around with a sad expression in his deep sapphire eyes. Heero moved his mouth to respond, but no sound came out with the motions. This only made the Japanese man's expression more heartbreaking. "Heero, where are we? What's wrong? Why can't you talk?"

Heero looked down at the sand and seemed to get an idea. He began tracing out letters with the toe of his shoe, but the second he finished one letter, the wind would howl and blow it away. Duo looked out a strangled cry of frustration, looking around for some way for them to communicate, but they were in the middle of a desert, and even the wind was keeping words away from Heero.

Duo couldn't help but notice the tears in his lover's eyes. Something wasn't right. Heero leaned forward, joining their lips in a kiss made salty by Heero's tears. Duo licked his lips involuntarily, tasting more of the tears to realize that he was crying, as well, and the red ribbons that bound them together were getting longer and longer.

A new bus was appearing in the distance, and as the ribbon kept stretching, Heero got on the bus. It turned around and drove off, and the last thing Duo saw of his lover before jolting away was being blown a kiss goodbye.

*~**~*

January 2, 1942

Trowa showed up today. The look on Quatre's face was priceless. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so happy yet so sad at the same time.

It reminded me of when my father died. Mom was so upset at losing him, yet so grateful that Solo and I were all right. It was like she wasn't sure on how she was supposed to feel. She never cried in front of us, but we could hear her at night, and then Solo went back to the university, so it was just me, sitting up late at night listening to Mom rearrange the photographs on her bureau only to cry herself to sleep every night. I think that was partly my fault. I had acted so separate…so distant and uncaring that I probably made her feel worse than she should have. I know now a lot of things I wish I had known before and just saved everyone the grief, but I was too locked up in my own personal prison of grief and guilt at the time to notice anyone else's problems.

And that's what Quatre reminded me of today. He was just so happy to see Trowa, alive and in one piece, but at the same time he knew that Trowa most likely had friends that died and saw a lot of things that keep him from sleeping soundly at night.

And he did look like hell. His deep emerald gaze almost seemed haunted or like he was still amazed that he was alive. He smiled at Quatre the second he saw him, and I think I'm getting waterlogged lately because I've been a lot more emotional.

That's what happens when you have a mental wall for several years and all of a sudden you fall in love with a guy who knocks it right down. You have to make up for all the tears held back before. Not to mention that dream with the ribbons keeps haunting me. It's all I can think about. I sincerely hope it doesn't mean anything because it really is scaring the living piss out of me!

Other than that, Trowa looked pretty good for a guy who survived an attack that wiped out an entire military base. I mean, no visible damage that I could see. I'm sure he had scars and burns, but half of his face wasn't blown off, and he still has two arms, two legs, and ten fingers, so I guess he got off better than other people he knew, which probably makes him feel even worse.

I wish I knew the guy better. It would seem a little weird now for me to just be like, "Hey, Trowa, if you ever want to talk, I'm here, man," but I figure Quatre can get him to spill faster than I could. Quatre's good at that, for some reason. That's probably why he could put up with me during my bout of self-loathing and manic depression. Quatre could sweet talk information out of anybody; that's why he works for me now.

So Trowa walked in the door, trying to look casual and not attract any attention, but when you're dropped off in a government vehicle, we tend to notice these things. Not much goes on in this area of town. On really slow days, we watch the old lady across the street prune and hedge her roses. Seriously. So the second Trowa walked in the door, he was practically barreled over by his boyfriend, who was so genuinely happy to see him that his smile was reaching his eyes.

That's the thing about Quatre. He's just so damn expressive that you can read him like a book. They were still in the doorway, Quatre seeing if Trowa was hungry/thirsty/tired and I'm standing back wondering if I should be laughing or crying. Laughing because it really was a funny sight, but if it were Heero and I, I probably would have been worse.

We welcome Trowa back to San Francisco, Quatre never leaving his side, and they motion to go upstairs. Trowa looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, and I had no problem with him using the sofa or even the bed if he wanted to. He smiled slightly, Quatre ever being the mother hen.

And then Heero came home. I kiss him chastely, telling him I missed him and all that little cutesy stuff because damn it, we're in love, and Heero welcomes Trowa back and tells him he's happy that he's all right. Trowa's giving Heero this strange look the whole time that's really confusing me until that fringe of him moves away from his other eye and I can actually tell what expression is on his face.

He was glaring at Heero! Glaring! I thought they were getting along well before; you know, quiet guys tend to be comfortable in each other's company because they don't have to worry about small talk, or at least that's what Solo said when I asked about it, so I couldn't figure out for the life of me why Trowa was giving my Heero an evil look for all he was worth.

I'll just write it as I remember it happening.

"So how long did you know?" Trowa had asked, gaze set on my Japanese lover who seemed just as confused as I was.

"Know about what?"

"The attack that you and your people planned," came Trowa's reply, and I look over at Quatre who looked back at me and I think we had a similar oh-shit expression on our face.

"Me and my people? I had nothing to do with it!"

"How do we know that? Seems rather odd that you would come home with Duo after knowing him for not even three days."

"Trowa, what the hell are you talking about?" I remember saying.

Quatre was just as shocked. "Trowa, you're stressed out and tired; please get some rest. You're being foolish!"

Trowa was glaring daggers. "You're the ones being the fools. I don't want to see him or hear him. He's a fucking Jap!" Trowa left, practically slamming the door behind him.

We were all in disbelief. I think Heero was even in a minor state of shock because his hands were trembling in clenched fists.

Quatre gave us all apologetic looks. "I'm sorry; he'll realize what he said was inappropriate soon enough and feel terrible for all this…"

I nodded in my friend's direction. "Just go after him and shape him up before I find my own way to." Quatre's lips tightened into a grim line before he left.

Heero was still shaking for the next couple hours. I think it has something to do with what happened to his parents…

Dear God, who is the good guy anymore? Why are we being affected like this?

*~**~*

Tsuzuku

[1] I don't know what year this quote is from, so it might be an anachronism.