Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Survival ❯ Hard Candy Delusions ( Chapter 5 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Hard Candy Delusions
 
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January 5th 197 - Thursday - Unknown
It was one of those days… One of those kind where you just felt like curling up in a little ball and dying, because everything just sucked so bad. The world was a terrible, hopeless place, wrought with horrible things and nasty people, and sometimes it just felt like either you or the rest of the world just needed to die.
 
And he'd tried the rest of the world before. Well, the colonies, but really, same difference.
 
Shivering, Quatre shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and tried to walk a little faster. He had no idea where he was going, what he was doing, but he hoped that he could maybe get there a little faster and get whatever it was done.
 
He sighed. Who am I kidding, anyhow?
 
Heero was dying.
 
He wasn't sure if he had fled out here to try to find a doctor or a priest.
 
But then, how many times was it that Heero was “dying” now? For that matter, how many times was it that he had been “dead”? The point was moot, only Duo's opinion remained: the man couldn't be human.
 
Duo's dead, and Heero's got staff infection, he reminded himself coldly. Trowa's gone, I'm a fop, and Wufei probably went and got himself killed.
 
Sighing, he ducked into an alley and leaned against the wall. He couldn't do anything about the others, but Heero…
 
He just wished he could find some kind of miracle cure. Something to make everything better, soothe you, clear everything up… But only children could ever believe it was so easy. Only children could ever believe the cough drops made the cold go away…
 
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Amsterdam
“Hey, Luc?”
 
Turning away from Shov, Luc spotted Chaos leaning against the doorframe and grinned. The other man's hair was loose for once, and it looked… funny. “Yeah?”
 
Chaos grinned back companionably, shaking his head a little to toss the mid-length locks back over his shoulders. “Making a run to the store for Father Espen. Anything you want me to get while I'm out?”
 
His accent had been improving, though it was still there. His mastery of Dutch had been improving too; he slipped into English less often, now.
 
That wasn't the only thing that had changed. Despite the fact that he hadn't been around for four months yet, people treated him like he had been heir friend his entire life. He took the meaning of gang being closer than family directly to heart; even Sin had finally stopped being so cold towards him.
 
That thought made him wince. “Chocolate?” he suggested
 
Chaos laughed. “She that bad?”
 
Luc rolled his eyes. “You know how she's been, every little thing pisses her off to high hell. She's not talking to me again. I don't even know what I did, this time.”
 
Shov grinned at that, moving over to lean against one wall. “Your fault, there. You're the one who knocked her up.”
 
“I'd heard pregnant women were scary, but shit, she's outright insane,” agreed Luc.
 
“It's making me think I might join up with Father Espen and claim chastity for life,” admitted Chaos with a wink.
 
The Devils' leader made a throwaway gesture. “You're just scared of sex, admit it.”
 
“I'm an inexperienced, shell-shocked soldier boy,” Chaos returned with a smirk and a mischievous glimmer in his eye, crossing his arms. “Do you have any idea how few virgin sixteen-year-olds there are in this city? I don't feel like embarrassing myself.”
 
Shov grinned. “Go find a whore, then. She won't care.”
 
Luc laughed. “No, he actually is scared of whores.”
 
“Damn right I am.”
 
Shaking his head, Luc asked, “Do me a favor?”
 
“Hm?”
 
“Take Sin with you. See if you can get her to calm down a bit? And get her whatever she's gotten a craving for this time…”
 
“Pickles and ice cream?” suggested Shov.
 
“Peanut butter and chicken wings,” replied Chaos, pulling a hair band off his wrist.
 
“Don't forget the chocolate syrup and eggs,” muttered Luc as he dug his wallet out of his pocket and tossed it at Chaos. Despite the fact that he been looking in a different direction, continuing to toss some of Sin's more bizarre cravings back and forth with Shov as he tied his hair back, he snatched it out of the air without a glance.
 
He always did things like that. It made Luc wonder why White Fang had been stupid enough to let him go in favor of the dolls.
 
“What were you getting for the church, anyhow?” he asked, sitting down.
 
“Some medicine stuff,” Chaos said easily. “I've had some luck lately, and they could really use it.”
 
That was another thing; Chaos didn't work, but he usually had money. He had freely admitted to being a rather good pickpocket when he was younger, and that most of his belongings were “acquired” rather than bought. He also claimed to be a pretty good gambler, and with his luck, Luc didn't doubt it. There were a couple of past incidents he had mentioned that had made it clear he would be an excellent burglar as well; it seemed like if he decided he was going to get into a place, he would, and that was the end of the story.
 
But he also made it clear that anything that actually made it into the church was bought from a store.
 
“Just take it out of my wallet,” Luc said with a yawn. “Maybe Sin'll cut me some slack.”
 
“Alright. I'll go find her.”
 
After he'd left, Shov asked, “Does that ever worry you?”
 
“Does what?”
 
“Chaos. He's almost always with your girl, these days.”
 
The other man shrugged. “It's because he doesn't take any shit from her. He was a real bastard to her until she quit flirting with him; they get along because she can't play him like a fiddle. The guy won't bother her usual games, so she has to act different with him.”
 
“You sure? You never… suspect or anything?”
 
He pursed his lips, thinking about it for a minute. “No. He treats her like a little sister.” He shrugged. “And honestly, if you ask me, he's either as messed up from the war as he claims, or he's gay. Maybe both.”
 
“He fights like the devil himself,” commented Shov, almost grudgingly. “But his eyes are just fucked up when he scraps. It's like he enjoys it or something.”
 
Luc paused. “I think he's killed more people than he wants to remember. He must have risen really high. Even with the dolls, I can't figure why they kicked him out… He must have really pissed someone off.”
 
“Or killed someone important,” muttered his second.
 
Luc shrugged. “He seems damn determined to bury who he was, at any rate. You can't honestly tell me that a man who spends his time in a church and helping teach our fighters better techniques is going to kill us in our sleep. He's the most loyal guy I know. He just tells you when he won't talk about something.”
 
“True… I just feel like he's a little too good, sometimes. Especially with the shit he's capable of.”
 
“Yeah, I get what you mean.”
 
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Tibnin, Lebanon
Quatre was… disturbed, again. It was happening more often lately, and he kept stalking out to have time to himself now that they'd found a relatively safe abandoned building in Lebanon.
 
It rankled that the safety factor was almost entirely for his benefit; he just wasn't improving anymore, which was an ominous sign considering how nasty the wounds looked, he was willing to admit. His leg didn't look infected yet, but if he was regressing…
 
“The others are all dead, aren't they?” Quatre asked suddenly.
 
Heero frowned, before actually considering the question. He didn't have to ask who his comrade had meant, not after how trust the five of them had to gain in each other at Peacemillion, closer than he had ever dared to get to anyone since Odin, even if he knew that those like Quatre or Relena would think it meant little, considering how little they knew of each other. But they had all shared the Zero system at some point or another, and they had survived to get into the late stages of Operation Meteor, and they had all defected from the original plan of action… There were too many coincidences there to deny there was an element that bound them together.
 
The little information he had managed to procure from the new Peacecraft Regime's databanks before being found by their hacker, months before, was hardly conclusive… And it wasn't as if they didn't all know how to go completely to ground. “They aren't,” he noted eventually. Even with the elements turned against them, they would not have made it so far as they had if they couldn't handle the fallout of this… And while he and Quatre were together and the rest likely separated, they had made it through so many close chases now, even with him holding them back.
 
No… He didn't have Zero to run all the scenarios for him, but he didn't think they could be dead, or at least, not all three of them. “We're not the only ones left,” he told the blonde man decisively, trying to gauge his mood again. It was something he had become more practiced with in the past year, but he had let go of enough of his pride not to admit that he possessed no talent for the skill, or at least he would not until he had more practice. After the retraining Dr. J had put him through… It was hard to remember all the facial expressions outside those necessary for determining hostility, but he was trying, now to push past that barrier. It would be detrimental to ignore such a vital part of humanity, now that he was no longer a weapon.
 
He had to be something else now, because he refused to simply be a broken tool. He had adapted before… He would find a way to do it again.
 
Quatre didn't respond but had a faint smile that lacked humor, and was leaning against the wall with his eyes shut… possibly trying not to break down, for which he was grateful; he wasn't entirely sure he could handle the blonde in one of his more violent mental breaks with his leg in the state it was. The way he had been moving the past two weeks suggested a sort of repressed hostility.
 
He didn't understand why Quatre was thinking about them, though; they had enough problems by themselves now, and he doubted the blonde could honestly afford the depression. Hopefully it would pass soon… as he was fairly sure Quatre had decided not to believe his answer to the question about the other pilots. He was determined to feel bad today, apparently…
 
Well, so long as he didn't do something stupid, that was his business.
 
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Amsterdam
“Alright, how much do you know?”
 
Sin blinked at the aisle of baby stuff. “Um, not a lot.”
 
Chaos grinned. “Well, you won't need bottles, but diapers are going to be your best buddy for something like three years.” He motioned over at a different section. “When it starts eating real food, you can mush stuff instead of buying this expensive shit, but that's pretty self-explanatory. Same with everything else, actually. The baby detergent's nice, they can get rashes when they're little from normal stuff, but it goes away, if you can't afford it.” He grinned at her and walked back out of the aisle, swinging the basket he was carrying.
 
She followed him, frowning. “Rash?”
 
“Yeah. They can scratch up their faces too, their nails grow fast. You can buy mitten things, but it's just as easy to rip up a shirt that's not good anymore and make them.”
 
“You sound like you've done this before,” she accused.
 
“I helped out a lot with the younger kids my church took in, when I was little. Someone dropped a baby on the doorstep once. Sister Helen showed me the ropes, and I took care of the kiddo as much as she did.”
 
“What happened to it?”
 
He shrugged. “Babies get adopted really fast. They got her to some couple with fertility problems a few months after we found her.”
 
She blinked. “That's kinda weird, isn't it?”
 
“Not up in the colonies; it's actually a pretty major issue, up there. Space radiation, no natural sunlight, all that.” At her shocked look, he smirked. “Didn't think I was a colony boy, huh?” He chuckled and motioned stopped walking. “Alright, how about medicines?”
 
“…They help when you're sick?”
 
“Okay, you really are sad.” He handed her the shopping basket and crouched down on to read labels. He picked out a little pink and white bottle and held it up she could see it. “Baby Benadryl,” he explained. “Fever reducer, decongestant, and does great with allergy problems. You don't give straight Benadryl to a kid; you wait until they're at least ten for that, it's too strong.” He tossed three bottles into the basket, then grabbed an adult one and tossed it in too.
 
After that, it was Tylenol, a thermometer, Pepto-Bismol, and a cough syrup. Apparently, they were the all encompassing types of medicines, one-for-all fix-`er-alls. Then disinfectant gel, pain numbing disinfectant spray, Band-Aids, some ace wrap, gauze pads, a little flashlight he felt he needed to test the brightness of by holding one of her eyes open and shining it in for a few seconds, and a little sewing kit. Everything came with a description, including the obvious things, just because it was funny, except for the kit, which he seemed to add almost without thinking.
 
“Sewing?” she asked skeptically.
 
He blinked at her, as though it was the most absurd question she could possibly ask. “Stitches.”
 
“…Stitches?”
 
“Well, yeah.” He shook his head a little and grabbed another little kit.
 
She decided to drop it, and he went to go get an economy size pack of tissues. On the way back, though, he walked down a different aisle, and almost squealed with delight. “Cough drops!”
 
Trying not to giggle at his reaction, she walked over to him. He had put the tissues down and was examining what seemed to be a million different kinds of the things. “Cough drops?” she repeated. “Do they actually do anything?”
 
“No, not really,” he replied, grabbing a bunch of different flavors and tossing them into the rather full basket.
 
“Then… why?”
 
“They're a good distraction, and they taste good. It's like candy or something, so you get a treat for being sick, you know?”
He picked up the tissues and started walking out of the pharmacy section, and Sin followed as he kept trying to explain. “It's like… the cough syrup is actually what works, but kids think the drops do the same thing, because they help while they last. So you give them cough syrup, then let them have at the drops until the syrup kicks in, so they're not pouty about being drugged.” He turned down the office aisle, and grabbed a roll of duct tape. Gesturing with it absent-mindedly, he went on “And it keeps them out of the drops when they're not sick, because they think it's actual medicine.”
 
“Okay… And duct tape?”
 
“It's cheaper than med tape and works just as well.”
 
“Ah.”
 
He grinned broadly. “Now, can you think of what we missed?”
 
She blinked, and began looking through the basket. “Um… Advil?”
 
Chaos' eyes went wide, as though she'd said something bad. “No.”
 
“Why not? Tylenol good, but ibuprofen's better for headaches and sore muscles and stuff.”
 
“That's because it thins the blood, messes with clotting. It'll make you lose more blood.”
 
“…What?”
 
He paused, seeming to realize how odd that must have sounded, but a second later, his carefree grin was back. “What we missed was some rubbing alcohol. It hurts, but it's the only way to really clean something, and you can use it to disinfect.” He snapped his fingers, remembering something else. “And we need a lighter too.”
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