Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ War Story ❯ Chapter 12
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Vinyl-Koneko 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Angst / Adventure / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 07.01.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.0K | Visits: 399 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Angst / Adventure / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 07.01.2003 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.0K | Visits: 399 | Status: Completed
+ Title: War Story - Part 12
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net
+ Rating: R
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.
*~**~*
The following morning had Colonel Zechs Marquise carrying out the more burdensome of his responsibilities: visiting any victims to apologize, telling them the government will pay for any losses, including a funeral if any loved ones were lost; and notifying the families of the pilots killed in battle of what happened to their sons and how honorable they were.
Heero, for one, was glad that the duty didn't fall onto him. He wasn't too good when it came to stirring up words of comfort to complete strangers, even though he had been a writer before he joined the Air Force.
He had surprisingly slept well, but his dreams consisted largely of saddened indigo and the guilt he felt over being the one to cause the upset. The emotional hold Duo seemed to have over him disturbed him and excited him at the same time, and he was only left to wonder if Duo felt the same way. The longhaired American's embrace had come as a brief surprise - not the contact itself but how well the two of them fit together. Duo was a few inches taller, and as his arms had been wrapped around Heero's torso he could feel the other man's heartbeat through his back.
Heero frowned. He had walked away from Duo last night, the wrong thing to do in such a tense moment. He had even said all the wrong things. Heero rubbed at his temples. 'So this is what the war is turning me into.'
He needed to find Duo and apologize somehow. Even though it would be easier for him to just forget about the other man and leave everything as it were, he just couldn't do that. Heero felt too strongly for Duo, and wanted to see those violet eyes filled with warmth and happiness again. And he was yet to admit to the other man his own growing feelings.
Heero glanced at the clock, trying to figure out where Duo would be at this time. He seemed to follow a simple routine that involved work, food, sleep, and the library. Duo worked on his articles at the newspaper's office building between nine and two, allowing himself a lunch break in the middle. It was currently almost ten o'clock.
He decided to go find Duo at the plant when the same warning wail from the day before enveloped the entirety of London. 'Shit, so yesterday wasn't enough and they're coming back for more.'
Heero rushed to the hangar, seeing Quatre already there holding a compass, seeming to be looking for a specific coordinate on a map of the city. "The colonel was right," the blond man said, tracing a circle once he found the point he was looking for. "The Nazis were looking for something yesterday, and today they've come back to eliminate it."
Images of targets that held a potential value flashed through Heero's mind, going through the courts and the Parliament building to points of public interest such as the theaters and the libraries. None of them, however, were located in the area the bombers seemed to be scouting the day before. 'A church, maybe?'
"What's their target?"
Quatre hesitated for a moment, pretending to be distracted by the pilots entering the hangar and stopping to wait for orders. At Heero's persistent gaze, he let go of a deep sigh. "The newspapers."
Heero was well aware of the men with their eyes trained on him as his jaw clenched. Duo. "Push the fighters as fast as they can go. We can't afford a repeat of what happened yesterday. Stay with your wingman. Farland and O'Malley - the two of you are wing partners now. If you can't kill them, injure them so they won't be coming back anytime soon. Now go!"
He felt a hand on his shoulder, holding him back for a moment, and he turned to see Quatre looking at him with a worried expression on his pale features. "Heero, it'll be okay. Duo's tough."
Heero hands formed fists at his side. "This is *precisely* why there is no room for emotions in a time of war." He hurried to the cockpit, not wasting anytime in getting the propellers going and checking to make sure everything was in working order. He taxied to the runway, lifting into the air the moment he had gained enough velocity to do so without stalling. 'I'm coming, Duo, I'm coming. Oh God please don't be too late.'
Two minutes later they had a visual of the scene. The Nazis were trying their hardest to level everything within a quarter of a mile of the office building to take out any survivors, and when Heero first caught a glimpse of the factory, he was surprised to see that half of it was still standing.
He watched as the squadron went after the bombers, aiming to disarm, disable, or destroy depending on the opportunity presented. The Nazis, knowing that against the much faster fighter planes their bombers were sitting ducks, turned and started to head back in the direction where they came from.
"Two Flight, you know where they're going. Bring the rest of the squadron to intercept and take them out."
"Yes sir."
"Two, here. What are your plans, One?"
Heero paused, trying to find a way to say it so Quatre would understand but the rest of the squadron wouldn't take it for what it really meant. "I'm going to help look for survivors until the police show up. That way I'll be here if any bombers decide to come back and finish the job." He watched Quatre leave his wing, moving to join the rest of the squadron in pursuit of the Nazi bombers.
Heero pushed down on his stick, circling the area until he found a suitable spot to land. It would be risky in such a short, narrow strip, but he could do it. He lowered the fighter some more until the landing gear were just barely scraping the ground before touching down and trying to stop the acceleration as quickly as possible. He ended up a block down the street from the newspaper plant, and he discarded the flight helmet to run the distance divested of the weight.
People on the ground were calling up to those still in the building, trying to get those who were panicking to calm down. Some were looking for family and friends, tears streaming down their faces. Whenever someone tried to climb down, the building would heave, shifting violently and threatening to break. They needed to wait for the fire trucks with the longer ladders before anyone could be returned safely to the ground.
Heero scanned the faces in the crowd. There were no telltale signs of violet irises or a long, chestnut braid. 'Maybe he didn't come in today. Or maybe he's still in the building. What if he's trapped in the rubble and can't get out? Who knows how long it would take rescue teams to find him…'
A blonde-haired woman holding a camera backed into Heero while trying to get the wreckage in its entirety. "Sorry," she said automatically, finding the right angle and snapping away at the devastation around her.
"Do you know Duo Maxwell?"
The woman turned, staring at him as if she could figure out his motives with a single glance. "Who here doesn't? Nice guy, easy on the eyes, and disappointingly uninterested. Why? Now's kind of a bad time if you're here to visit."
"Where is he?" Heero was beginning to have trouble keeping his calm. The woman was aggravating him. On some level, he realized, she reminded him of Relena.
She shrugged. "Last I saw him he was helping a couple people out of the building. Damn, I really need a smoke. You have one on you?"
Heero shook his head, dashing off to see if there was somewhere he missed. A familiar voice caught his attention, and when he turned around, Duo was sitting across the street on the hood of a parked car that had a piece of steel frame sticking out of the hood. He was accepting what looked like a cup of coffee from an older woman in a black dress. He watched cautiously, waiting until the woman moved on until he went up to the other man.
Duo's clothing was torn in various places and burned in others. Heero could spot bruises forming on the glimpses of pale skin peaking through the now-tattered suit. A large gash ran from the middle of his forehead to just above his right temple, and it looked like it hurt him to move. Heero also noticed - as Duo went to move the cup to his mouth - that his hands were violently shaking. He grabbed the cup firmly with his own hand before the drink ended up spilling. The longhaired man looked both embarrassed and grateful at the same time.
"Thanks," he said, his voice quiet. He set the cup down beside him, clenching and unclenching his hands as if it would stop the shaking but nothing seemed to help.
Heero could feel the tension between them, and he knew it was because of the last time they had met. Heero had been an ass and he needed to make up for it somehow. "You're wrong, you know," he began quietly, partly to match Duo's tone and partly to keep the other people on the street from listening in. "I do care. It would be so much easier if I didn't, but I do, and I can't help it."
"When I was a little kid," Duo began, "my parents got me a Bassett hound puppy. I named him Sunny because, well, I was little and kids are weird like that. He went everywhere with me. Three years later he got hit by a car and died. I couldn't stop crying, and my parents got me a new puppy to try to make me feel better, but I just ignored the new dog because if I loved it like I had loved Sunny it would hurt again. I guess it's sort of the same thing, huh?"
"Yeah, sort of," Heero replied. He reached over, covering Duo's hands with his own. "If you keep watching them like that the shaking isn't going to go away."
Duo seemed to relax a little. "Can you stay here for a little while? I'm still a bit shaken up and you're the only friend I have."
"That shouldn't be a problem."
Duo smiled, and Heero was glad. It meant that he'd be able to get over this. They conversed quietly, Heero enraptured by watching Duo's face as he spoke excitedly about different things. He soon realized that Duo's hands weren't shaking anymore, and that he was still holding them, but Duo either hadn't seemed to notice or mind. Heero hoped it was the latter.
*~**~*
End Part 12
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net
+ Rating: R
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.
*~**~*
The following morning had Colonel Zechs Marquise carrying out the more burdensome of his responsibilities: visiting any victims to apologize, telling them the government will pay for any losses, including a funeral if any loved ones were lost; and notifying the families of the pilots killed in battle of what happened to their sons and how honorable they were.
Heero, for one, was glad that the duty didn't fall onto him. He wasn't too good when it came to stirring up words of comfort to complete strangers, even though he had been a writer before he joined the Air Force.
He had surprisingly slept well, but his dreams consisted largely of saddened indigo and the guilt he felt over being the one to cause the upset. The emotional hold Duo seemed to have over him disturbed him and excited him at the same time, and he was only left to wonder if Duo felt the same way. The longhaired American's embrace had come as a brief surprise - not the contact itself but how well the two of them fit together. Duo was a few inches taller, and as his arms had been wrapped around Heero's torso he could feel the other man's heartbeat through his back.
Heero frowned. He had walked away from Duo last night, the wrong thing to do in such a tense moment. He had even said all the wrong things. Heero rubbed at his temples. 'So this is what the war is turning me into.'
He needed to find Duo and apologize somehow. Even though it would be easier for him to just forget about the other man and leave everything as it were, he just couldn't do that. Heero felt too strongly for Duo, and wanted to see those violet eyes filled with warmth and happiness again. And he was yet to admit to the other man his own growing feelings.
Heero glanced at the clock, trying to figure out where Duo would be at this time. He seemed to follow a simple routine that involved work, food, sleep, and the library. Duo worked on his articles at the newspaper's office building between nine and two, allowing himself a lunch break in the middle. It was currently almost ten o'clock.
He decided to go find Duo at the plant when the same warning wail from the day before enveloped the entirety of London. 'Shit, so yesterday wasn't enough and they're coming back for more.'
Heero rushed to the hangar, seeing Quatre already there holding a compass, seeming to be looking for a specific coordinate on a map of the city. "The colonel was right," the blond man said, tracing a circle once he found the point he was looking for. "The Nazis were looking for something yesterday, and today they've come back to eliminate it."
Images of targets that held a potential value flashed through Heero's mind, going through the courts and the Parliament building to points of public interest such as the theaters and the libraries. None of them, however, were located in the area the bombers seemed to be scouting the day before. 'A church, maybe?'
"What's their target?"
Quatre hesitated for a moment, pretending to be distracted by the pilots entering the hangar and stopping to wait for orders. At Heero's persistent gaze, he let go of a deep sigh. "The newspapers."
Heero was well aware of the men with their eyes trained on him as his jaw clenched. Duo. "Push the fighters as fast as they can go. We can't afford a repeat of what happened yesterday. Stay with your wingman. Farland and O'Malley - the two of you are wing partners now. If you can't kill them, injure them so they won't be coming back anytime soon. Now go!"
He felt a hand on his shoulder, holding him back for a moment, and he turned to see Quatre looking at him with a worried expression on his pale features. "Heero, it'll be okay. Duo's tough."
Heero hands formed fists at his side. "This is *precisely* why there is no room for emotions in a time of war." He hurried to the cockpit, not wasting anytime in getting the propellers going and checking to make sure everything was in working order. He taxied to the runway, lifting into the air the moment he had gained enough velocity to do so without stalling. 'I'm coming, Duo, I'm coming. Oh God please don't be too late.'
Two minutes later they had a visual of the scene. The Nazis were trying their hardest to level everything within a quarter of a mile of the office building to take out any survivors, and when Heero first caught a glimpse of the factory, he was surprised to see that half of it was still standing.
He watched as the squadron went after the bombers, aiming to disarm, disable, or destroy depending on the opportunity presented. The Nazis, knowing that against the much faster fighter planes their bombers were sitting ducks, turned and started to head back in the direction where they came from.
"Two Flight, you know where they're going. Bring the rest of the squadron to intercept and take them out."
"Yes sir."
"Two, here. What are your plans, One?"
Heero paused, trying to find a way to say it so Quatre would understand but the rest of the squadron wouldn't take it for what it really meant. "I'm going to help look for survivors until the police show up. That way I'll be here if any bombers decide to come back and finish the job." He watched Quatre leave his wing, moving to join the rest of the squadron in pursuit of the Nazi bombers.
Heero pushed down on his stick, circling the area until he found a suitable spot to land. It would be risky in such a short, narrow strip, but he could do it. He lowered the fighter some more until the landing gear were just barely scraping the ground before touching down and trying to stop the acceleration as quickly as possible. He ended up a block down the street from the newspaper plant, and he discarded the flight helmet to run the distance divested of the weight.
People on the ground were calling up to those still in the building, trying to get those who were panicking to calm down. Some were looking for family and friends, tears streaming down their faces. Whenever someone tried to climb down, the building would heave, shifting violently and threatening to break. They needed to wait for the fire trucks with the longer ladders before anyone could be returned safely to the ground.
Heero scanned the faces in the crowd. There were no telltale signs of violet irises or a long, chestnut braid. 'Maybe he didn't come in today. Or maybe he's still in the building. What if he's trapped in the rubble and can't get out? Who knows how long it would take rescue teams to find him…'
A blonde-haired woman holding a camera backed into Heero while trying to get the wreckage in its entirety. "Sorry," she said automatically, finding the right angle and snapping away at the devastation around her.
"Do you know Duo Maxwell?"
The woman turned, staring at him as if she could figure out his motives with a single glance. "Who here doesn't? Nice guy, easy on the eyes, and disappointingly uninterested. Why? Now's kind of a bad time if you're here to visit."
"Where is he?" Heero was beginning to have trouble keeping his calm. The woman was aggravating him. On some level, he realized, she reminded him of Relena.
She shrugged. "Last I saw him he was helping a couple people out of the building. Damn, I really need a smoke. You have one on you?"
Heero shook his head, dashing off to see if there was somewhere he missed. A familiar voice caught his attention, and when he turned around, Duo was sitting across the street on the hood of a parked car that had a piece of steel frame sticking out of the hood. He was accepting what looked like a cup of coffee from an older woman in a black dress. He watched cautiously, waiting until the woman moved on until he went up to the other man.
Duo's clothing was torn in various places and burned in others. Heero could spot bruises forming on the glimpses of pale skin peaking through the now-tattered suit. A large gash ran from the middle of his forehead to just above his right temple, and it looked like it hurt him to move. Heero also noticed - as Duo went to move the cup to his mouth - that his hands were violently shaking. He grabbed the cup firmly with his own hand before the drink ended up spilling. The longhaired man looked both embarrassed and grateful at the same time.
"Thanks," he said, his voice quiet. He set the cup down beside him, clenching and unclenching his hands as if it would stop the shaking but nothing seemed to help.
Heero could feel the tension between them, and he knew it was because of the last time they had met. Heero had been an ass and he needed to make up for it somehow. "You're wrong, you know," he began quietly, partly to match Duo's tone and partly to keep the other people on the street from listening in. "I do care. It would be so much easier if I didn't, but I do, and I can't help it."
"When I was a little kid," Duo began, "my parents got me a Bassett hound puppy. I named him Sunny because, well, I was little and kids are weird like that. He went everywhere with me. Three years later he got hit by a car and died. I couldn't stop crying, and my parents got me a new puppy to try to make me feel better, but I just ignored the new dog because if I loved it like I had loved Sunny it would hurt again. I guess it's sort of the same thing, huh?"
"Yeah, sort of," Heero replied. He reached over, covering Duo's hands with his own. "If you keep watching them like that the shaking isn't going to go away."
Duo seemed to relax a little. "Can you stay here for a little while? I'm still a bit shaken up and you're the only friend I have."
"That shouldn't be a problem."
Duo smiled, and Heero was glad. It meant that he'd be able to get over this. They conversed quietly, Heero enraptured by watching Duo's face as he spoke excitedly about different things. He soon realized that Duo's hands weren't shaking anymore, and that he was still holding them, but Duo either hadn't seemed to notice or mind. Heero hoped it was the latter.
*~**~*
End Part 12