Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Wherever You Will Go ❯ Acceptance? ( Chapter 8 )

"...What were you thinking saying that? You would have done the same if you had thought of it first..."

"...Quatre..." Trowa placed a calming hand on the blond boy's shoulder, and issued a low, uncertain tone as he watched the steadfast signs of emotion flit over the Japanese soldier's face. He inwardly sighed as the focussed Arabian continued on. Obviously the word had had no effect, and simply bounced quietly off the blonde boy's act of fitted concern - not to mention his selective hearing.

Trowa ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Since Quatre had made an unusually fidgety Heero relay what had occurred between the two, the Japanese pilot had had little opportunity to get a word in - and despite the situation, Trowa would have found it quite amusing...that was except for the quaking display of very un-Heero-like behaviour.

The telltale previews of what was going on under Heero's mask disturbed him, to put it bluntly. It honestly looked like Heero was losing it. As much as Heero can lose it…Can't we have a peaceful time ...just for once? The Latin pilot lifted his visible brow and rolled his eyes at Heero, meeting the Japanese boy's gaze for but a brief moment before it flickered back to glare at the Arabian, not quite ready to receive more scolding treatment.

"...Be fair to him! I cannot believe you, Yuy! For once I'd like to see you actually courteous. Duo has never done anything but accept you, and you have never done anything but be-"

Again a subtle cough of intervention was deflected by further words of repression, and to be quite honest, right now Trowa was getting fed up with the both of their ignorance. True, he never talked much, but usually what he said was worth it - wasn't it? He'd never been silenced or ignored like this by the other pilots. Could they not see that they were both too involved in this?

Trowa slammed his hand down hard on the richly coloured oak desk, waiting for the reaction from both recipients. Silence abruptly ensued, and Trowa took this as an indication that he had their attention. He lifted his head, ignoring his vaguely stinging hand, and found himself eye to eye with two very curious and subdued boys. Both were looking directly at him, and ironically Trowa struggled to suppress a bubbling laugh that wished to make its appearance known. He swallowed the sound, turning it into a brief cough. Quatre raised a delicately curved and very curious brow.

"Thank you," the Latin boy remarked more than a little sarcastically. "Now, can you two honestly say that you've resolved anything in the past twenty minutes that you've been arguing?" Pausing for effect, Trowa frowned at the lack of response. If anything, Heero seemed to back further into his protective shell, while Quatre appeared to coil backwards, hurt by his lover's disapproval.

"Honestly!" The pilot of Heavyarms felt himself grow more unusually hot-headed by the minute as the uncooperative duo simply stared blankly at him.

"Tro-"

"-a Barton..."

"-baka, I've been trying to bu-"

"-mule-headed stubborn-" Quatre and Heero suddenly spoke at once, cutting one another off as they each tried to make their point. Trowa only vaguely noticed Quatre's reference to his last name before he launched into his lecture.

"Enough!" He slammed his already stinging hand down onto the same desk before lifting his arms in frustration. "Quatre, please, quiet for a minute?" The boy in question widened his eyes at the pleading command, but nodded in understanding, gesturing for his partner to go on. A minute smile pulled at Trowa's lips, and he tilted his head in silent thanks.

"Now, Heero. You've told us everything, right?" The perfect soldier replied with a brief nod of his head, while Trowa threw an amused glance at Quatre before continuing.

"Define everything."

"Baka, I told you. We had an argument. He compromised our mission, so I told him that," Heero paused, and in that instant the Latin pilot caught another emotion that betrayed Heero's stoic personality. Worry, and… was that something else?

They knew the rest. "What did you say to make him leave, Heero?"

A look of concentration briefly crossed Heero's face as recollection struck. "I said…I…I told him he was a hazard, and a danger to the mission. I didn't say anything else, after that. We swore at one another, and …he got angry, and left." Almost absent mindedly, Heero looked down and began typing on his control panel - though what exactly he was doing, neither Quatre nor Trowa could gather. They shared a concerned glance; now not only for Duo, but for Heero as well. The other boy's broken words worried them both.

Trowa frowned, and caught Quatre doing so as well. He looked at Heero again.

"We know how you feel towards him, you know."

The words were so casual coming from the Latin boy, that it was disturbing. To address the matter so abruptly - it was a big risk - even for Trowa to speak to Heero about something so hidden; so personal, and on his right, Trowa heard Quatre gasp at the openness of the words.

"Trowa?" Now it was the Arabian boy's turn to worry. He saw Heero's shoulders stiffen, then fall, and a brief, uncharacteristic sigh was heard for a short second over the line. The emotions he felt coming from Heero also revealed what he had just seen, and suddenly he knew this was the only way to go about it.

"I know how you feel," Quatre continued for Trowa. "Every time he goes on a mission - is in danger of a kind, I know exactly what you feel; what you're feeling right now, and trust me, what I feel for Trowa is the same. Love, worry." Quatre paused, to take in Heero's reaction. Nothing. He continued in vague amusement, but in obvious concern and hope of Heero's acceptance.

"Accept it, Heero. Nothing will change, your feelings won't. You can't your feelings behind a facade of false anger that is really only fear for his loss and worry. And you know what?...Duo feels the same way about you as you do him, I know it." Quatre placed his hand from it's rest on the ornate desk, to his heart. Letting Heero know where his truth of emotions came from. And at this, the pilot in question looked up, eyes wide in some uncommon emotion. Then, after what Quatre considered to be a little too long in unsure silence, something seemed to click in the eyes and situation of one Heero Yuy, and he nodded, and turned off all but the audio connection to the two other pilots.

"Nimyu Ryokai," was all that was heard, and then the connection was severed.

Trowa tore his eyes from the blank screen, and turned his lover toward him.

"They'll be alright," he said, in a comforting voice soft in contrast to the sharp hissing of the static in the background.

Quatre only turned and smiled, then nodded, his eyes now glistening with unshed tears from the feelings he had no doubt acquired from Heero. They both knew by now where the Japanese pilot was going; and it was by the other boy's side, in aid of the one he loved, that was where he belonged.

"I know," was all Quatre said; his smile growing by the second, and wavering only slightly. "But please, by Allah's might, let them come home safely."

NOTE: Now that this is the end of this (very short) chapter, I would like to extend my HUGEST thanks to one Dyna Dee, who helped me sooooooo much with the layout and progress of this fic. If it hadn't been for her, I would have been floundering on the first paragraph, without a doubt! Thank you so much Dyna!