Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ First Person Plural ❯ Chapter 4

"Do you ever get the feeling that there's this ultimate power that controls your life and they're just playing some sort of cruel joke on you?"

Heero glances over at me, then back to the papers that he's studying.

He seems wary.

Can you blame the guy? My god, after what happened two nights ago?

"What brought this on?"

I shift uncomfortably on the couch and lift my feet off the pillow settled on the coffee table, uncross the ankles right over left and recross them left over right before setting them down again slowly. I wiggle my toes a moment in the socks, regarding them in the distant place I had floated to about an hour ago, then lean my head against the back of the couch, dropping a hand over my eyes. My skull feels as if it's expanding with each breath I take, the rustling in my mind doesn't make the headache any better.

Headache? Hah! Try migraine.

"Nothing, nothing at all," I sigh softly.

The couch shifts but I don't have the energy to lift my head, and the others aren't curious enough, or stupid enough, to try.

"Duo, not to offend you, but the simple truth is you don't look fit enough for this assignment."

He's not fit enough to live. Stop that, you're depressing me; you sure as hell aren't making him feel any better. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. How's the arm feel Duo? Hm?

"Shut up," I breathe, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Huh?"

"I said, fit enough. I'll be fine, I'm just fighting something off."

Or somebody.

I can feel his eyes burning into me and I know he doesn't believe a lot of things I've told him, or the others, since we got here. It's not my fault that this came at one of the worst possible moments, or that I feel like shit right now, and that I'm having trouble concentrating on things.

Life ain't easy being a multiple.

You bring it on yourself, you know. Leave him alone, I don't think now is the time. Hah, when's it ever the time, huh, huh, huh, huh? Never. I hate you. Meyer…

"Duo." My name comes out a soft sigh that seems to have some meaning that I don't understand. I don't want to know, I'm not in the frame of mind, and I'm too fragile to take much more shit right now.

You're just hiding from everything.

Wouldn't you hide too…?

Silence for a moment or so, but I can still hear the soft sound of his breathing. It's calming, and familiar, even and regular, stable. Unlike me.

"We've had a small change of plans, can you handle that?"

Oh shit. Make way; make way, plane's about to crash.

I force my eyes open to squint at him. "Like what?" Tell me it's cancelled, tell me it's cancelled, tell me it's cancelled.

"We have an extra assignment."

Aw fuck.

He continues. "It will tie in with the other one. The information we need to get is very sensitive, as you know, and is certain to be noticed quickly if it is missing, which it will be. What the other pilots and myself have decided on is an attack directly after we move in and gather this intelligence. Assuming of course we go undetected during the first half of the mission. The second will occur the afternoon after the already planned activity. Trowa and Quatre will be ahead of us and will inflict the majority of the damage, just enough to keep the nearby base busy for several days. They would have already gone ahead directly after the first assignment to gather the needed materials for this one anyway. We will move in via vehicle before they arrive there and secure the location. You see, the officials on the base depend on this location and will make sure everything is all right, and by the time they discover the missing information we'll be gone from the area."

Sounds simple enough.

Yeah, so what's the catch?

"And what exactly will we be doing?" I ask slowly, which silences the others, and they press against that imaginary glass in my mind separating the visible me from the rest. They're all waiting for the answer as well. I wonder if it's safe to zone out, then he starts talking and it wrenches me back.

"Like I said, securing the location. There is the slight possibility that there may some civilian activity in the area, and I would like to make sure that the death count, if any, does not include them. I want this to be very select, but not obvious, and I think we can do that by choosing a time that there are few civilians there."

Austin pushes me to tell him that civilian casualty might actually be necessary to make it look less suspicious, but Heero continues as if he knows that there's something I will say he doesn't want to hear.

"The possibility of any civilian presence is actually rather weak because of the upcoming storm."

Did he sound…nervous?

No, I think we're just tired.

Enough. Excuse yourself Duo so that you can sleep the headache off. Assignment one is tonight, after all.

"Excuse me Heero, I need to go sleep off my headache. Wake me if something important comes up or I'm not up in time."

Or not at all, that's an option too of course.

I'm too exhausted mentally to snap at Meyer for that; too exhausted and too inured to it.

I push myself from the couch slowly and the full effects of my exhaustion seem to hit me as I move around the coffee table toward the bedroom. Those intense Prussian eyes are fixed on me as I walk unsteadily down the hall, and I can still feel them against my skin long after I've disappeared from his gaze.

He must be thinking of you…

I ignore Ara as I climb into the bed, hoping to find peaceful sleep, alone, yet never alone. And in that realm between sleeping and wake, where all guards are down and realizations come, inspirations strike, I can feel the others like I can't during the other hours. And it drags up the painful guilt in me for my own selfish desires.

I can feel Ara's longing for something more, for something of his own, for someone that wants him and needs him and loves him for who he is. More than I've ever known I feel an unfathomable yet resigned sadness for all these things that he's lost before he ever had the chance to have them. For the husky whisper of his name he will never hear.

And I am more aware than at any other time whom Meyer truly is and not as I choose to see him. I know the fear and pain and anger that radiates from him, the uncertainty and insecurity and sense of total weakness, of being able to do nothing while the world constantly pushes and pushes and pushes. Sometimes I forget because of his hatred toward me, and his cruelty, because he hurts this body, cuts us, says things to people that I would never say that hurts them, and wounds me, that he's just a child. A scared, needing child that doesn't know of any other way to let me know that he's hurting inside but to act out.

There's Austin, and it's not his pain that makes me feel guilty, it's not a torment that only he knows, but the lack of it. He's so detached and cold, able and willing to do anything to accomplish what must come, without thought no matter the sacrifice, that it chills me to think that it is because of me he must exist this way. And I feel so ashamed that I dare envy that powerful aura that settles over him, because he is just a part of me, a part that I can't and don't want to touch. He cannot cease to exist because I won't let him.

And briefly I can taste Bailey's hell, to exist in a world where nothing is ever as clean as it should be, as straight as it should be, as right and perfect and orderly. To know that no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to clean yourself and your surroundings, somehow you will always be dirty. That you can never be clean again, that your world will always be tainted because something deep inside of you is tainted and even though you know this isn't true, it's all in your mind, that doesn't mean you can stop it.

Still waters run deep, or so they say.

I roll over, burying my face in the pillow, trying and losing to a sob that has forced its way into my throat and out. And soon the pillow is soaked with my tears and they still won't stop as I silently cry for their pain, for my memories that they must hold, for every time they look in the mirror and see my face and not the one they feel inside of themselves, and they have to know that they can never exist as the people they are, and because I so often forget that. I cry until I don't know if they are my tears or theirs anymore. I hold Meyer's bear tightly against my chest as witness to this moment, and for once my ragged breathing is the only sound I can hear, outside and in.

A soft voice I don't recognize, it must be my own, whispers softly, what about your own pain Duo?

They are my pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Testing, testing. All present and accounted for?" Quatre asks, his voice somewhat hollow and tinny through the earpiece.

"Affirmative," Heero answers from beside me, echoing through the microphone set against his throat that feeds into the earpiece we're all wearing.

"Ditto," Trowa answers, voice softer, the wind from his position catching it and carrying it away.

"Bright and clear like a rainy day." I scowl mentally at Ara who backs away sheepishly. I know that he's just trying to be helpful. If left to my own devices at this moment in time I probably would have grunted something, and that isn't exactly encouraging for the others, not since they know how I usually am.

This brings silence from the others, either to wonder what's wrong with me, or to wonder how I can possibly seem so chipper in a moment like this.

If only they knew, huh?

Heero turns to me with an unreadable look on his face. I couldn't explain where that came from even if I had to so I just stick my tongue out at him and go back to straightening the gloves. A soft hum begins in my mind but it shouldn't get any louder that that.

"Okay, then I think we're ready. Remember positions, maintain radio silence unless necessary, and keep out of sight. We have 20 minutes, give or take, before the next round on the guard's rotation begins. Let's go."

Rock and roll.

Shut up!

Heero glances over at me with a questioning look on his face.

What? Did I say that out loud?

I don't think so…

"You ready?" he mouths.

I nod to him, not trusting what will come out if I open my mouth, and slowly let out the breath that had been held without my quite realizing.

He nods back and I follow as he moves silently through the snow. Any crunch his boots might have made is covered by the soft whisper of the wind through the still full trees and the wildlife around us unmindful of our presence. We all find this peaceful and I try to internalize that, knowing that the mission and everything that comes with it will soon overshadow this peace.

Quatre's soft voice breaks through my thoughts, grounding me back in reality. "Guard One moving out of sector A and into sector B. Out."

That's all it takes for the nervousness of the moment to vanish, replaced by a calm and almost serene sense of purpose that will be boosted by adrenaline and uncertainty and fear. This is one of the few times that my mind is almost completely silent, and while I don't enjoy the circumstance I enjoy the quiet. The only problem is when everything is done, all is clear, and I can head back, there's no more obvious danger, my mind is anything but clear. It gets noisier than before, and I have yet to find the mute button.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good job," Heero tells me. I look up from the journal; blinking to focus on his face, thankful to escape the clamor and confusion that seems to come with the `conversations'. I'm only glad that it's just the 5 of us in here because it's already crowded enough with that; I really would lose my mind if there were more. Say 25 or 26. Just the thought makes me wince.

"What?" I hope my voice isn't as thick as it is in my head.

"Good job, what you did," he says, back to me, working on the laptop.

We should get a laptop…

No.

It sure would be nice. Yeah, it would. I'd have to get a bigger bag or something, and that's just a hassle. I hate typing anyway, so blah. It would be more efficient, and less noticeable than this journal. Well, Aus does have a point there. It's Austin if you please. Come on; let's not make any major changes any time soon. Maybe one day in the future, not right now. Hey, pay attention! Heero's talking again. Oh… Damn, I hope we didn't miss anything important.

I blink, trying to focus not necessarily my sight but my mind. "…had my doubts, but you proved that you could pull it together. Even if you were a bit moody. Just keep it up for tomorrow. Get some sleep, that seemed to do you some good today."

I look back down to the journal, the writing starting again.

Bailey: Did Mr. Perfect Soldier just compliment us?

Ara: I think he did.

Austin: Probably would have been better if we had been paying attention.

Duo: Can't blame that on me.

Meyer: I can blame everything on you. Just give me a chance.

Bailey: Sleep, hah! You cried your bloody eyes out, made a real mess when you did wake up from the nap. I'm surprised they didn't notice.

Duo: All right, I think that's enough of the journal for tonight. Wash hair tomorrow morning or tonight?

Bailey: Um. Hm. I think tomorrow morning, give it some time to dry before we go of course, but no one wants to sleep in a bed with that much damp hair.

Meyer: Wanna ask Heero?

Duo: Absolutely not.

Ara: Hm.

Austin: Enough, enough. Put the journal down and go to sleep, we all need it.

The journal is being closed and placed aside, the lamp switched off, the only illumination in the room the eerie glow of the laptop screen.

Toby…

Meyer reaches across the bed and pulls Toby out from underneath the other pillow, dragging it against his chest, and I'm aware but unable to care that Heero is watching this from the screen of the laptop. Meyer mumbles something that I hope is a good night and the eyes close. As I let myself begin to slide off into the peaceful oblivion Heero joins us, obviously having decided to get sleep himself or be nice and stop typing so I can get some sleep. I smile faintly at that as I feel Meyer shift slightly.

He moves again so that he's looking up at the ceiling, then his eyes close and he turns, scooting toward the center of the bed, and cuddling up next to Heero. I know Heero well enough to feel, even in my dazed and distant place, the start of surprise that overtakes him at that.

Meyer moves closer, finding some degree of comfort in having another so close after so long without, and when Heero doesn't seem to object to the unexpected cuddling, I decide who am I to take this away.