Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Reprieve ❯ chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Title: Reprieve 4/?

Author: Lethanon

Archive: www.geocities.com/lethanon and mediaminer.org

Email: Sansillion@hotmail.com

Warnings: AU, Gundams, 5+2, 3+4, weird Heero, Gundams….the usual.

Chapter Four

They were moving away from the medical wing, closer to the bridge, but on a side shoot of the ship that was all too well hidden while still allowing full access to the ship's two most important areas: the bridge and the hanger. There was an air of silence here; of foreboding. It was as if life held its breath, waiting to decide whether to continue or…Wufei would not let himself think about that.

He had woken from a strange dream. No stranger than the others really, only this one had a twist he had not expected. He had not died. Someone had died for him. It only took a minute to realize it wasn't a dream, for memory to superimpose itself over the nightmarish vision of a boy he didn't know sacrificing himself for the mission. A mission gone horribly wrong. Wufei had hauled himself upright, torn whatever tubes they had stuck in him loose and stalked to the door. That was where the doctor had caught him…

One good thing about being a Gundam Pilot. When you look at someone as if you're going to kill them, they actually think you will. They get out of your way and move. Sally Po moved alright, but that unfortunately didn't stop her from screaming at him all the way to the bridge. That was the second shock since waking; the captain. At least, Wufei assumed he owned the ships, as he was the one giving the orders. Where the shirt had come from…Wufei had a feeling it wasn't just the odd washing day.

He studied the man as he led the way, watched the way he seemed to skip along the halls. Yes, it was his ship. His operation. His…what exactly? Wufei was becoming all too well aware, despite his groggy and drugged state, that he was no longer in home territory. Whether it was safe was yet to be seen. He knew only two things. One, Sally Po could be trusted not to let him die. Two, Pilot 02 could be trusted to die for him. Neither was an overly appealing thought, but it was all he had.

A door slid open and he was led into a dark room. He made it two steps before his knees hit something. Hard. He buckled, put his arms out to stop his fall, realized his mistake as a soft light came on revealing a blackened mess of flesh and tubing before an arm snaked around his waist and hauled him upright a moment before it was too late.

Gasping for breath, Wufei didn't immediately try to pull himself free of Sally's grip, just hanging limp, eyes watering with a pain he could not yet feel, too numbed by the site before him.

Over the COM link 02 had been a vibrant, grinning manic fool, so filled with battle lust and excitement his attitude had infected even Wufei's stoic demeanor. He had been beautiful, violet eyes flashing, chestnut bangs flaring over a proud forehead, mouth a wide, terrifying grin as he screamed obscenities at the enemy. Even Wufei had felt a shiver of fear down his spine.

The figure on the bed was small. Much smaller than he had imagined from the glimpse over the coms. A plastic capsule held the mouth open, no longer smiling, air forced down his throat, leaking into his lungs from the tube that disappeared within. Wufei felt his own hand reach up to brush against his throat. There were more tubes…one in the arm stained a dark red, attached to the bag of blood hanging from the equipment attached to a tray on the ceiling. Another in the other arm, this time fluid, a slightly blue colour, probably the tubing. Another, clear, coming from an all too familiar device; morphine, but probably not enough. Then the little patches, the heart monitor beating out a rhythm, stable but threatening to give at any moment. Wufei's ears focused on those small, almost inaudible fluctuations and felt empty within.

There were bandages everywhere, odd strips of white that looked almost colourful against the ashen skin. The eyes were closed, sealed behind dark shaded lids, the soul within in hiding.

The arms around his waist loosened and lowered him to the edge of the bed. It wasn't until then that he noticed the bed at all. It took up the whole room. The ceiling and walls were an elaborate hospital, designed for the ultimate comfort in recovery. And yet…it was a bedroom. On one side of the bed a desk could be folded out. A cupboard door was visible on the far wall and Wufei had a feeling it held everything this boy possessed. The room was not new, worn and thrumming quietly with a life of its own.

"This room…it was made for…"

"We wanted him to be comfortable…during the training. I didn't like that he spent all those hours in the med bay."

Wufei didn't look up at the ship's captain, eyes still focused on the boy. What had his training been like, that al this equipment had been needed just to keep him alive? That it was still so readily available now? How different had there lives been only to be so similar now?

He leaned forward. Reaching across the still form and ran gentle fingers over the right arm, that lay pillowed away from the rest of the body, a series of dark metal pins protruding at precise intervals.

"He must have put his arm up to brace against the crash…shattered it against the controls."

Again Wufei did not reply, letting his fingers linger on the wrist, feeling the pulse beat in almost perfect time with the heart monitor. It was like a ghost was in the room, forever a split second behind, ever trying to catch up. Wufei prayed to whatever god he believed in that the ghost made it.

The light suddenly dimmed, not turned off completely, but barely enough to see by. The door slid shut and Wufei knew instinctively he was alone. Trusted to be alone with what was obviously a prized possession, if not a prized member of a family.

Family.

Careful not to jostle the bed, Wufei crawled over the other pilot's limp body, wove his way through the tubing. Once on the large free side of the bed, he reached up and unwound an IV from the ceiling, reconnected it to his arm lay down.

Several minutes later, Wufei sighed heavily as he leant over 02.

"Why did you do that?"

His only answer was the heart monitor's incessant beep, so Wufei placed one hand gently over 02's heart, careful not to dislodge the right arm from its cushioned place, curled up on his side and went to sleep, content to feel life beneath his fingertips.

*

"Shit!"

"Quatre!"

"I'm alright, just wasn't' expecting that." Quatre breathed out heavily as he pushed the Leo off him and proceeded to cleave it in two, not even bothering to wish the pilot well in the after life. There wasn't any time, and at that moment he just didn't feel inclined to do so anyway.

Trowa was out of bullets, fighting hand to hand. Quatre was no better, his blades no doubt blunter than he realized, catching on the weakest of metal, straining Sandrock's limits. Heero...the beam cannon was powered down and the saber looked ready to pack it in. The only good thing going for them was the fact Relena Peacecraft was still very much alive and hiding in her pink limousine behind the towering bulk of Heero's Gundam. The mission was not yet a failure.

"We have to pullout!" Quatre yealled across the coms, hoping his voice would break out over the static coming from the damaged equipment.

"Negative!" Heero's voice was determined and lacking any emotion. His image flickered on and off the screen. "Mission cannot fail!"

"Affirmative," Trowa's voice came across the speakers, with no image. It was the last straw for Quatre, who knew they were down to minutes. There was no choice. The mission would fail. It was just a choice of whether they failed with it.

Growling in annoyance, Quatre forced himself to calm, to look at the situation rationally and come up with a viable solution. There was one, and he was amazed someone hadn't thought of it sooner. Of course, the others probably didn't have the room…or the inclination…Still. It was there only chance.

"Cover me!" Quatre yelled and not giving the others a chance to find out what he intended to do, Quatre stormed Sandrock into a position behind wing, opened the hatch and before the door could open fully he had grabbed hold of the wire lift and was leaping off.

He hit the ground hard, let his knees buckle, rolled and came up running straight for the limousine. It seemed Miss Peacecraft was smarter than he had assumed. She was already climbing out, rushing toward him. Quatre met her Halfway, didn't bother explaining anything to her, just bolted back to the wire lift, grabbing hold with both hands as he felt Relena's arms snake around his neck. Then they were flying…or at least, Quatre imagined it felt that way to her. He just felt like his arms were about to tear out of their sockets. He didn't really have the strength to support himself, let alone a second person.

They reached the hatch. Relena, to her credit, didn't balk at the site before her. Sandrock was falling to pieces. Bits of the desk were strewn about the visible part of the cockpit and sparks were flying off the door. She looked at the small cramped space, her shoulders stiffened, and then Quatre saw he give in to the inevitable.

"Sit on my lap," Quatre yelled over the noise of battle as he went to move past her. He was stopped, however, by her arm on his hand.

"No. You're smaller than I am and you need to pilot. You can…."

She seemed incapable of finishing, blushing a dark red as she sat resolutely in the pilots chair and firmly attached her arms to the side rests. Quatre did not hesitate. There was no time. He sat as gently as he could, sealed the hatch and pulled the restraints over both of them even as Sandrock lurched forward barely avoided stumbling into Heavyarms.

"Let's go!" Quatre yelled over the coms.

There was no reply, the coms were dead, but Wing was already moving, leaping into the air and flying north. Quatre checked the coordinates and confirmed their safehouse was that way before pushing Sandrock into a run and firing the boosters until he could take off.

"I should have brought the Maguanacs…" He mumbled under his breath and heard Relena gasp in surprise. There was no comment, however, for which Quatre was grateful. They could deal with identities later. For now, Quatre just wanted to fly them home in silence, basking in the afterglow of a successful, if somewhat daunting mission.

*

The light was on. Again. Wufei blinked back the glare, waited until the burning red receded to faint orange behind his lids, then opened his eyes. It was Sally. Apparently she had been added to the medical staff, because whenever it wasn't Duo's personal little doctor it was her, and they took it in turns to check on both pilots…A team. Wufei was surprised to realize how much that meant to him.

They had come and gone for days now, one after the other, their passing indicated only by a brightening of light and the slide of the door. Wufei had lost track of them long go, along with the days and time itself.

"Is he okay?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she smiled fondly at him, eyes still on her work as she injected something into one of the tubes. The clear one. IV, Wufei had to remind himself. He was just grateful they had taken out the respiration tube; that thing had given him the creeps.

"He's okay. In the green in fact."

"What's that?" Wufei nodded at the needle she was still injecting into the IV and waited patiently for a reply, satisfied that his new, as yet still unconscious friend was going to live.

"Sedative. I think he'll wake soon and I don't want him to wake screaming."

Wufei shuddered at the thought and leant back on his pillow to watch her work. It didn't take long for her to check all the monitors, then he hawk-like gaze was on him.

"How are you doing, Wufei?"

Wufei shrugged.

"I'm fine."

Apparently she didn't believe him because she leant over the bed and started flicking switches on the room's monitoring equipment, looking for something that apparently wasn't there.

"Fluids are back, your bruises are fading, burns are clean. Sprain…no worse for wear…broken arm…still broken but in the right position. Okay, who are you nd what have you done with Chang Wufei?"

"Onna."

Sally grinned and tugged his short ponytail. Wufei's scowl apparently had no effect on her as she grabbed the blanket and pulled it back up to his chest.

"Howard's coming down later to check on you both."

Howard. Now there was an enigma Wufei couldn't figure out. How had he ever become Captain of this place? A base in the middle of the Pacific Ocean; a floating labyrinth of metal capable of hiding the most advanced ships of the day. Including the one they were aboard. Wufei hadn't actually ventured out into the world of the Sweepers, but sally had, and her reports made him curious. He kept telling himself `soon' and waited for his companion.

"I thought you might like to know," Sally said softly from the doorway. "Both your Gundam's are repaired."

Wufei gaped at the door. It could only have been days, a week at most. How had they repaired that kind of damage in such a short amount of time? It was not possible, and yet…Wufei doubted anything was impossible among the Sweepers. They were crazy. Crazy enough to risk everything. For him. To die. For him.

The door was shut. Wufei felt an itch on the back of his neck. He head heard something. Sitting perfectly still, he waited, and he heard it again. The shift of fabric. Looking down, onyx eyes met violet. Clear, tearless, pain-filled but stubborn violet. Wufei wanted to cry but refused the tears an outlet.

"02?"

"….five…"

The breath was barely a whisper, but it was there. Wufei couldn't help a slight smile from forming as he looked over the twitching body, already testing the limits of its strength, the extent of injury, running a silent mental catalogue. Wufei knew, because he had done it himself countless times.

"You okay?"

Those violet eyes moved about the room, recognized it, gave in to it and they slid shut.

"Fine."

Wufei watched the chest rise and fall as he reached over and pressed the button connected to Howard's pager.

"My name is Wufei," he whispered softly and the pale lips grinned at him even though the eyes didn't open.

"Duo."

He was asleep again. Wufei snorted at the strange grin still plastered on the boy's face…Duo's face, he reminded himself, before he grabbed a black marker from the side desk and leant over to the bandaged left arm.

`Get well soon, Duo. Wufei.'