Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Perfection Breakdown ❯ Adjustments ( Chapter 5 )

Perfection Breakdown- by masamune

Part 5- Adjustments

"Err…Quatre-sama?" Rashid knocked tentatively on the door to Quatre's bedroom. He hated to be the bringer of bad news. Auda and Abdul had thoroughly searched the OZ base datafiles and had double-checked. Two prisoners confirmed. 02 in 54-A and 05 in 34-C. 01 or 03 no-where to be found on the base.

"Hai?" Quatre lifted his head from his laptop, wearily.

Since the fiasco the Sandrock pilot had been immovable from his desk, glued to his computer, doing a very good impression of Heero. He'd been running checks on old safehouses and possible locations near the OZ base that Heero or Trowa could have gone to.

Rashid stepped only slightly into the room. He chose his words very carefully; he hated to see Quatre upset. There wasn't much they could do from the outside. Sending Abdul and Auda had been a very risky and bold move. Neither two were well versed in espionage or covert operations. Quatre would have gone himself except Rashid had pointed out that someone had to stay behind to guard the other four Gundams. OZ troops had pursued them continuously. Battles ranging from scout team skirmishes to small platoon strikes occurred almost every two days. Sandrock was needed here, *and* so was Quatre.

"They checked the files again but still couldn't find Trowa or Heero could they?" Quatre asked softly.

"Gomen nasai Quatre-sama," Rashid replied at once. "But we found Duo and Wufei. They're undergoing the interrogation processes now. Abdul and Auda are going to set the escape tonight. They've managed to snag some old officers uniforms and will simply ask the guards to hand Duo and Wufei over to them. What they have to do is act like a bigshot sent specially by Treize. By the time anybody actually checks backgrounds they'll be done."

Quatre nodded, a tired smile spreading across his boyish, young, face.

"I've been thinking. Was there any OZ reports of casualties on Saturday? *Enemy* casualties?" Quatre asked fearfully. If not then Trowa and Heero had probably escaped. Or at least not met their end in the OZ facility… It was the hope that they'd still emerge from this mess alive and well.

"Only OZ soldiers were killed or wounded."

"Then they must have escaped!" Quatre exclaimed happily. The situation wasn't very good, but at least they were all alive still. Simply knowing that Trowa was alive had relieved him greatly. The feelings he'd developed for the silent pilot had built up over time. Now Quatre truly understood the phrase "you never miss them until they're gone". Something in the air was lacking without him. Their room was too empty.

"If we get Wufei and Duo back we can attempt a search of the area around the base. I *know* Trowa would have gotten as far away as possible, but I don't know if they were injured."

"Don't worry then," Rashid beamed. It seemed that Quatre had perked up a little. "By tomorrow night Wufei and Duo will be back, and then we'll find the others."

He couldn't have been more wrong.

The tension in the small dormitory was stiflingly thick, but remarkably fragile. The tension created by Duo's angry shouts had seemed to disappear into the walls. Now the only sounds that could be heard was the quiet breathing of the two young men sitting on the bed.

/K'so!/ Maxim thought as he and Duo sat, staring into each other's eyes, searching the other for all possible emotions. /Why should I open up to this boy? Why am I opening up to him? I haven't been myself ever since that damn braided baka came into my life. I've got to get a hold of myself/

"My eyes can't be all that fascinating," Maxim finally spoke. "You aren't going to just look at them all day long are you?"

"No of course not!" Duo answered, snapping out of his deep thought. "Just that I've never seen eyes that color…they're really something."

He gave a sheepish grin, somehow feeling that Maxim's sparkling red eyes seemed to have some magical property to them that allowed the OZ sniper to bore right through Duo's skull, exposing everything he thought and felt.

/You're really something/ Maxim thought wistfully and immediately scolded himself. /What the hell is wrong with me? Why does he affect me like this?/

"I told you earlier, but you weren't in the best shape at the time," Maxim suddenly got off the bed and stood up, seeming to tower over the smaller form of Duo, still sitting on the bed. "I got caught in an explosion at a power plant on L3. The explosion wasn't so bad, but there was some weird chemical in the container that blew up."

"Damn that sucks," Duo answered, flashing back for a minute to the dark, cold cell and Maxim stopping the doctor from raping him. It'd been the first time they'd really spoken.

"It really only did damage to my eyes. And some lab jocks tried this new state of the art treatment on me. It wasn't legal yet, but they needed to test it somewhere and being blind…basically sucked. The other scar tissue healed over time though."

"Wow," Duo said, taking another brief glance at Maxim's eyes. The smoldering rubies seemed like any normal eyes, save their light red tint of course. "When was all this?"

"Almost 9 years ago. I was about 9 at the time," Maxim answered, his gaze going dead and his voice trailing off as he finished his response.

"What the hell were you doing in a power plant at that young age?" Duo asked with a joking, scolding tone, curiosity getting the best of him.

The braided pilot could tell that he had pried too far. Maxim's face seemed to slip on it's callous mask again and the tall youth turned away. When he finally replied his voice was quiet and lacking of all emotions, all except perhaps sadness.

"I don't really like to talk about it," he responded as he smoothed a slight crinkle on his dresser cloth. Suddenly, the OZ soldier was overcome with feelings of pain and anger along with his remembrances of his childhood. But it wasn't long before he pushed them away and was as calm and emotionless as ever.

/Things in the past can't be changed/ Maxim told himself. /Just remember you're an OZ soldier now. Work for the mission *live* for the job, die for duty. Now get the hell back on task/

"You must be pretty hungry," he said flatly as he turned to Duo. "There's a messhall near…" His voice broke off momentarily as he made eye contact again with Duo. Something there caught him off guard.

/What does that mean, that look in his eyes?/ Duo's eyes narrowed as they tried to make out the indiscernible glimmer.

"The messhall is close to us," Maxim finished. "I'll give you a sorta run-through of the base."

"Aren't you afraid that I'll try to escape or maybe just blow up this whole damn base?" Duo asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Can't be too careful with Shinigami around, ne?"

"Don't push my generosity," Maxim snapped back. The harsh tone in the soldier's normally dead voice quickly wiped away Duo's smirk. "I'm still a soldier. My duty is to OZ first. You couldn't have possibly forgotten what happened last Saturday."

"Ch', you got lucky," Duo said, shrugging off his embarrassment as he remembered that the mission failure was all due to this sniper, whose red eyes had almost singly handedly stopped them.

"But *you* might not be so lucky next time," Maxim replied, walking over to a large wooden closet and opening it. "But let's hope it doesn't come to that."

Maxim turned and threw an OZ uniform onto the bed, it was slightly discolored from being kept in the dim closet for so long but it was in otherwise very good shape. The metal belt buckle and leather boots still held their gleam. Duo simply stared at the outfit. His face was an expression of disgust and hatred.

"You can't possibly want me to put this on?" Duo asked, a note of fear in his voice. "You won't catch me dead in that thing, ever!"

/Gods it hurts so much. I'm sore everywhere. It feels like that cowardly bastard is still torturing me. I can still hear his goddamned voice in my ears/

A very tired and hurt Wufei leaned up against the cold, hard metal wall of his cell. He'd been in Ocelot's interrogation room for hours. Though the time seemed to drag on for eternity, the Shenlong pilot had tried multiple times to enfold himself into a trance like state.

Bearing the pain was hard enough, but trying to ignore it was next to impossible. A few times Wufei had succeeded in slipping away from the real world, closing his mind from the pain and anguish.

"ITAI!!!!!"

/I screamed like a onna! Like a weak, stupid onna. How long will it go on? Am I ever going to escape this place? How long can I last before he finally breaks me and I spill every one of my secrets? Oh Nataku give me strength/

Morning came, and almost as automatically the sun rises Trowa awoke. The Heavyarms pilot was tired and had not slept well. He decided to stay in bed for a little while longer, he didn't want to disturb Heero. For countless minutes he lay still on his side. It was only when the uni-banged youth turned to check on his comrade that he noticed he was alone in the bed.

/What the hell?/ Trowa thought to himself. /Where'd he go? He shouldn't be out of bed. I should have watched him more closely/ the silent clown reprimanded himself as he gracefully slid from the bed.

He yawned, but completely silently, as his feet touched the cool wooden floor. Trowa didn't bother to change put on fresh clothing as he slipped out of the barren bedroom. He was still clad in the white boxers he'd worn to bed the night before. Trowa crept through the small, shack always keeping his eyes and ears open for any sign of Heero.

/Don't make too much noise. Walk quietly, stay close to the walls. Wait a minute. What the hell am I doing? / The Heavyarms pilot questioned himself. /There's no danger here so there's no need to be so cautious. Now where's Heero? He's not in the bathroom. Not in his room either. In the garage? No, he'd have no reason to go in there, would he?/

It was the sound of metal connecting with metal that made Trowa react. Hearing a dull `clank' sound emanating from nearby he'd turned around and automatically reached for his pistol. But of course he'd left his weapon under his pillow. And besides, it was probably just Heero rustling up some food.

/And what situation would I be in if it *wasn't* just Heero and I'd left my gun? / Trowa grimly thought.

The moment Trowa stepped inside Heero turned around from the counter. On the stove behind him a couple eggs crackled and spattered as they cooked. The Wing pilot was clad only in his spandex shorts, much to Trowa's viewing pleasure.

/God, he has such an incredible body. Six pack, gorgeous pecks, muscles everywhere. And he still has the young, almost boyish figure too. He's just too hot/ Trowa's mind blurted out. The emotions and feelings were undeniable and eagerly supported by the growing member in Trowa's boxers.

"Ohayo Trowa," Heero greeted groggily, but with a hint of something like cheer in his voice. "Sleep well? You've taken such good care of me I figured this is the least I could do."

His cobalt eyes flickered but something was still not right about them. They were afraid, afraid of falling prey to the onslaught of nightmares that they knew would come on them in nightfall. Trowa took a step forward, not sure exactly what to say. His mind raced between replying, admiring Heero's body and hiding the obvious bulge in his white boxers.

/He's so up beat and happy today/ Trowa wondered to himself. /Wonder what's with him? He's moving sort of funny but he seems to be getting better/

It was then that Heero stumbled and knocked his foot into the metal base of the stove. Cursing slightly the cobalt eyed boy turned to face Trowa again. It was then that Trowa noticed that Heero was sweating and seemed to be almost off balance. His sense of equilibrium was faltering and the Wing pilot had to grip the counter to hold himself upright.

"Heero? What's wrong Heero?" Trowa asked.

/Why do I sound so timid and concerned?/ Trowa asked himself, even as he reached out to help steady Heero. /I…I can't suppress these feelings, I can't kill them the way I've killed all the others. Why is that? What is it about Heero, about his beautiful blizzard-like Prussian blue eyes that does this to me?/

"I'm alright. It's just a little hot in here," Heero said although he kept his hand on the counter. "I'm going to turn the heat down on the stove, it's too hot in here."

/But the temperature must be about 60 degrees Fahrenheit/ Trowa automatically thought. And indeed it was somewhat chilly in the small kitchen. /There's something wrong with him. He can't even stand by himself. I can't hide what I feel for him. Maybe it's better this way? Maybe it's meant to work if we're both weak and vulnerable and dependent on each other/

Sweat glistening on his brow, Heero finally released his death grip on the countertop. He awkwardly reached towards the stove controls. He was even breathing heavily. Suddenly Heero lost his stability and slipped to the floor. His arm flung out towards the countertop but missed. The exasperated and frustrated Wing pilot felt himself falling towards the floor, silently cursing his weakness.

It was almost an inch from the floor when Heero suddenly stopped falling. Trowa had caught him. One arm of the aloof clown had wrapped itself around Heero's waist. Opening his eyes he stared at the floor. Tiredly he then began to attempt to pick himself up. With a little bit of Trowa's help Heero managed to reach a standing position, although he was incredibly tired. The Perfect Soldier couldn't think of ever being more winded then that. He grimaced, as the burning heat in his head and throughout his body seemed to consume him.

Trowa held his arm around the sickly Wing pilot's waist. The Heavyarms pilot was silently enjoying the skin to skin touch of his arm curled around Heero, supporting his injured friend. Trowa felt his arms brush against the warm skin of Heero's hard, flat , stomach and against the Wing pilot's belly button. However Trowa only had one thought truly evident in his mind.

/Onegai. Don't let him notice my boner sticking straight into the back of his thigh/

Heero breathed deeply, his chest heaving against his friend's supporting arm. Then he again became aware of the eggs on the stove. Suddenly there was no pain, there was no dizziness or feverish warmth. There was no counter to lean against. Heero couldn't even feel Trowa's large erection sticking into the area directly below his buttocks or the strange sensations that resulted from the forbidden contact anymore. He felt numb and cold and for a second as stoic as ever.

With an angry cry his hand lunged out and roughly slapped the stove dial. The stove flame went dead and Heero could only stare straight ahead. He was out of breath and completely drained by a regular everyday task. Heero's hand lay limply on the stove dial, as though it was no longer connected. He stared at it until it became blurry and hard to see. Heero blinked his eyes but still it seemed as if the limp hand was moving. And then he realized that his whole body was shaking.

The shaking quickly calmed although it didn't leave, as Trowa's hand gently took hold of Heero's. Their fingers interlocked and Heero faintly felt Trowa squeeze his hand. In his weakened state the two hands seemed to mold and become one, and then Heero passed out.

-end part 5

I'm really sorry this part took so long. I honestly am not too pleased with this chapter too. = (

Well, please, if anybody is still reading this fic please send some C&C back to help me out. I'll get to part 6 soon.

MasamuneEHS@hotmail.com