Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Blinking ❯ Chapter 1

Blinking

 

Blinking, I open my eyes.

 

I look around.

 

A white room, padded walls, no windows, no door knob, no objects.

 

An empty, white room.

 

Empty except for me.

 

Oh, and the shadows lurking in the corners.

 

Well, in lack of a better name, I have termed them shadows. I don't know what they really are, but they're definitely here. I can see them, I can feel them, and sometimes, I can even hear them. And that's why I am here.

 

At first, I don't remember why I am in solitary confinement - again, for probably the thousandth time so far - , but the shadows are so kind as to remind me. Let's just say that it involved one of them trying to possess a doctor and leave it there. Oh, you didn't know they can control people? Well, now you know. But watch out that you don't end up in the loony bin like I did. Ah, did I forget to mention that I am the only one who sees them? No?

 

That's the reason why I am in the psychiatry ward of a small hospital in a small town on earth. At the moment, because of the shadows taking over that doctor, I am tied up in that ridiculous white straightjacket together with a pair of white pants (no zipper, no buttons, we don't want the loonies to accidentally hurt themselves or not-so-accidentally hurt others!), white socks and white tennis shoes. All that white stuff is making me sick, nothing to focus your eyes on among that glaring, clinical brightness.

 

Snorting, I look at my clothes. Really, if I actually tried, I could get out of that jacket; after all, not even OZ could keep me confined for more than a few days in a row, and they used steel, soldiers, and torture. Ok, so what if the others helped me sometimes; I could have escaped on my own, too, it just would have taken a little bit longer and it would have involved a little bit more pain, but…

 

Argh, who am I trying to kid? Yes, yes, stop nagging, I give up. No, the great Shinigami would not have escaped without help, but, hey, that was OZ! They had Gundanium handcuffs, brutes specialized in dealing out a whole lot of pain, and, most importantly, experience in confining Gundam pilots. Well, not at the beginning, but you know what I mean. And still they couldn't keep us long enough to sway the war in their favor. Ok, that one time when they cut off the air, they would have almost kept me and Wu-man forever; that was really a close call! But this teeny-weeny straightjacket is nothing compared to OZ, I could weasel out of it within a few seconds!

 

You ask why I am still here then? Ah, that's where the shadows come in. You see, I'm not sure if they are real or just a figment of my imagination (I love that expression! Doctor Mitchell Brown uses that one constantly when talking to me.) Sometimes, they seem so life-like when they are taunting me or possessing other people like yesterday. Or was it the day before? A few hours ago? My body tells me that I've been in here for quite some time, but how long exactly I'll never know. I don't have that kind of internal clock that the Perfect Soldier has. I have no idea where they've read that telling loons the time is not good for their mental health. I swear, NOT telling me is not good for MINE!

 

Well, anyways, the problem is that sometimes, when I'm high on meds of all kind, the shadows seem … less real, if you know what I mean. Oh, they aren't gone, far from it, but I can ignore them and their constant lurking and whispering. So, tell me: do the meds lessen my hallucinations, or do they cloud my mind so far that reality's slipping away from me? If you know, please, PLEASE tell me. You have no clue how f…riggin' (sorry for that, kiddoes, I promised not to use any bad words anymore, something else that Brown told me to do), how friggin unsettling it is wishing that I have lost my mind.

 

Oh, you don't believe that I'd rather be a nutty fruitcake than sane? Then think about it: what's the matter if the shadows are real and nobody believes me? What am I supposed to do then?

 

No, it's much better being insane, and that's why I haven't tried to loose my straightjacket yet. Actually, it's quite comfortable, but it's hell for balance. Oops, that wasn't what I wanted to say. It hinders your balance. It makes it difficult to balance. Yeah, that's more like it. How about that: The restrained arms have a negative effect on my condition of equilibrium. I love them big words!

 

Ok, ok, can it, I know that rambling on like this is a sure sign of mental instability, but, hey, remember where I am! Can't send me to the loony bin anymore, I'm already there!

 

Blinking once again, I close my eyes so that I don't have to stare anymore at all the whiteness together with the shadows. You ask how long I've been here? Well, actually, it started some time after the last war, no more than a year, no less than six months. Why I'm not sure? At first, I didn't see the shadows, not like now. It was just slight movement in the corner of my eyes, so little that I ignored them after making sure there was nothing. I think Heero saw them, too, because very often he was looking in the exact same direction where I saw them. But every time I asked him he told me there was nothing. Still, there was something in his eyes when he said that…

 

Anyways, it wasn't until three years afterwards, in 199, that I really saw them for the first time. It was at one of our meetings at Quatre's estate, kind of a reunion of us Gundam Pilots. During the afternoon, we were having fun drinking Quatre's tea (what did you expect? Whisky? Vodka? Cocktail? The five of us are strictly non-alcoholics, impairs your judgment too much) and talking about our work.

 

Of course, you are probably not surprised hearing that Heero, Wufei and I worked at Preventers, Quatre was leading his business empire, and Trowa was alternating between the circus and Quatre's home. But I am still wondering how Heero's managed to get the three of us working together in a team when the Lady'd been completely against it in the beginning. Something about emotional ties, terrorists, and only two agents to a team. Heero was in her office for no more than half an hour (Wufei and I were straining to listen in on their conversation although Wu-man would never admit to that and her office was soundproofed anyways, so we didn't catch a thing), and afterwards Une never said anything about that ever again.

 

So, that day, the five of us were sitting around and chatting, and suddenly, one of the shadows stepped into my field of vision. I couldn't do anything but stare at the bizarre form that inhabited the shape of a human man. It was standing right behind Wu-man, doing nothing except looking at me. At least I think it was looking at me; the fact that it was made from shadows didn't necessarily help. But have you ever seen a three-dimensional shadow? I tell you, it's really creepy seeing some mixture of black, human-shaped mist and lack of light looking at you with eyes it's not supposed to have.

 

I don't remember a lot afterwards, only that the others were staring at me as if I had turned insane, which I probably have. Only Heero had said nothing, but I would have worried more if he HAD said something. Although the way he always looked beside the shadow, never directly at it, was strange, almost as if he knew where not to look.

 

Somehow, I managed to ignore the shadow for the rest of that afternoon, but from then on, the others were a little bit more watchful. After some time, I got used to the shadows that were constantly popping out of the wood-work and could suppress my reactions to them, and I think, I even fooled the others - to a certain degree. Quatre must have suspected something, probably because of that space heart of his. But he'd never said anything about it until that day when I learned that the shadows can possess somebody.

 

Quatre was just visiting me, sitting in the kitchen of the small apartment I shared with Heero and Wufei. The other two were still on duty, so Q-man and I were alone. Well, except for that shadow that suddenly appeared right behind Quatre. It almost made me jump out of my skin and Q had seen my reaction before I was able to suppress it. That was when he started questioning me about my mental health.

 

Oh, not like `Duo, are you sure you don't want to consider going to a shrink?', he knows I don't react well to stuff like that. Nah, it was more like `Are you happy with your job?', `Do you have an eye on a woman?', but with every question the shadow drew closer to him, and the questions grew more and more concerned. I am sure Q must have sensed some of my rising worry; after all, the shadows had never done anything like that before. It was kind of like a vicious circle. The shadow drew closer, making me worry, making Quatre ask more questions, making the shadow come closer.

 

By the time it touched Quatre, I was almost hysterical, and when the shadow merged with him, I completely lost it because Quatre suddenly wasn't the nice little innocent angel anymore. The shadow somehow made him say and do things that the real Quatre would never consider doing. He started cursing with words I've never heard before. Well, I HAVE heard them before, but not spewing from angelic Quatre's mouth.

 

And that's how I came to be here in that nice, white padded cell with that nice, comfy straightjacket wrapped around me. Oh, not immediately; when the paramedics arrived, I was almost in control of myself again, not ranting anymore about getting that shadow out of Quatre, but nonetheless, they brought me to this loony bin. They kept me for a few days, gave me some drugs and several sessions with the resident shrink, and then decided that apparently I've never been completely sane to begin with. Oh, come on, do you really think that growing up while watching all the people around you die is a positive influence on your mental health? Or that fighting a war at the age of 15 helps you get over the insecurities of a childhood spent on the streets of one of the worst colony slums?

 

Yes, I have told them about my past, even that I was a Gundam Pilot. Why? So that they know what to expect from me if I grow violent. You didn't think that I'd risk other people's lives just to protect my identity, did you? The war's over, and if Shinigami is turning insane, it's better to lock him away before he does irreparable damage, killing people etc.

 

Ok, now it's official. I'm crazy. Talking about myself in the third person. Yep, exactly the right place I'm in. A sound startles me from my daze.

 

Blinking, I open my eyes once again.

 

The door is opening and one of the orderlies, Jake, is coming in. He's really nice; I've been talking to him quite a few times in between my bouts of insanity. He's crouching down behind me, untying the arms of my straightjacket, chatting all the while.

 

“Ah, so you're feeling better now, eh, Duo?”

 

My mouth runs on automatic. “Yeah, sure. But I wonder when's going to be the next time I'm in here again.”

 

“Well, I don't know why you're here to begin with, you've never had any violent bouts. Sometimes I think those above are confusing you with someone really dangerous.”

 

Smirking, I can barely suppress a laugh at that ridiculous statement. Feh, not dangerous! I was a Gundam pilot, a terrorist; for God's sake, I have killed hundreds of people, but I don't tell him that. Apparently those above think he doesn't need to know, and I wouldn't be the one to reveal the surprise. Oblivious to my thoughts, he prattles on. “Honestly, they treat you like some criminal.”

 

He clasps my hand and pulls me to my feet, guiding me out of solitary confinement into the care of another orderly, Dave. His jovial parting shot makes me curious. “Well, enjoy your visitor and don't come back here anytime soon!”

 

Dave's more serious, but he's got humor, too, just more hidden than Jake. He's shaking his head. “Jake, Jake, Jake. I've told you not to give him any false hopes.”

 

Yeah, coming out of solitary confinement, I first have to go see Doctor Brian Adams and get his approval stamp, and that's one guy I can't stand. Every time I see him and his smug grin, my fist is just itching to polish it off his face. I've pranked him a few times, just to see what he'd do. That one time when he proudly wore `I'm a Big Ass' on his bottom after sitting down on the chair I'd so carefully prepared for him was hilarious. Oh, and I think he still has no idea who stuck those huge smiley-faces onto every file in his office, even the ones that supposedly were locked away.

 

On our way to Adams' office, we have to go by the rooms of a few permanent residents. I swear, we're kind of like a family in here, the loons sharing their experiences, their problems, their hallucinations. Yeah, this is the ward for those who are as normal as it gets except for the things they hear, see, feel, and sometimes even smell. I've never heard that anyone can taste a hallucination, so I guess I can leave that one out. Other mental diseases are in other wards, and we almost never get to see them.

 

Our ward's supposed to be a place where people can be healed from their hallucinations, and if they've got them under control, they are let out once again. Only that some people's visions permanently refuse to go away, and they become the permanent residents. At least their hallway is colored in bright red, green, blue, yellow, a mercy on my eyes that have already started shriveling from all the white they've had to endure.

 

Looking around, I see Amy who's just coming out of her room. She's an elderly woman, her hair already gray, wrinkles in her face. She's brushing her arms absently, then she's looking up at me. Her watery, blue eyes are haunted, but when she sees me, they lighten up a little.

 

“Hello, Duo,” she says, then she turns to go back into her room again, seeing that I haven't come to talk to her. She's here because she's seeing white mice crawling all over her arms and legs. She feels and hears them, too, scaring her almost senseless. I know what she's feeling; in my childhood, I sometimes had to share my sleeping place (you couldn't call it bed because more often than not it consisted of a few old cartons) with some rats.

 

I've tried to help Amy. I've told her about my past and why I didn't fear the rats. They were small, furry bodies that kept me warm during really cold nights. Yeah, you think that's disgusting, but I'd had nobody as a child to tell me that rats were bad, and they were really nice an warm. Of course, they also were the ones who had spread the plague that killed Solo and the others, but back then, I hadn't known that.

 

Oh, and here's Peters. He's left the door to his room open, so I can see him ranting at nothing. He came here because he thought evil aliens were invading the world and he made some fires to burn them and exterminate them. Too bad that he'd almost burned down his apartment as well.

 

I don't like talking with him very much because his attention tends to wander off, and when he's suddenly spouting nonsense about `Get out you evil beasts! I shall slay you and teach you not to come to earth anymore!' it's high time to leave. Perhaps I also don't like talking to him because I can see something of myself in him. I also see things I'm not supposed to see, but I'm still more under control than him. I think I'm wondering whether I'll be as bad as him one day.

 

One time, Peters attacked Jake because he thought Jake was one of his monsters, and I still admire how Jake managed to restrain him so quickly without hurting either himself or Peters. If Peters had come at me like that, he would have gotten a broken leg, a broken arm a split-second later, and if he was lucky, I could have stopped myself before snapping his neck.

 

Ok, perhaps I'm not that bad, that's more Heero's style, but at least I would have socked him in the gut. Hard. Reflexes that go for the most efficient way of exterminating threats hardly ever take notice of the damage done to the opponent. In fact, the more damage the better. A dead enemy can't hurt you. Only that there's the tiny problem that we're not at war anymore. I would have liked learning to fight peacefully like Jake and all the other orderlies, a way of defending yourself that fits the peaceful time we live in.

 

Why I haven't?

 

Are you really going to ask?

 

Fine, fine, I'll tell you. Imagine this: on the one side, we have the loon. On the other side the orderly. I will spare you the `Ready? Fight!', so they are just running at each other. Loon jumps orderly, orderly does his magic, and before loon knows what's happened, he lies face down in the dirt, unable to move beneath the orderly sitting on top of him.

 

Round 2: loon knows how to fight like an orderly. Loon jumps orderly, orderly makes his move, loon knows the move, manages to avoid it, makes his own move against orderly. This time, the fight lasts very long, and if loon is really lucky, he manages to overwhelm orderly. But usually, there's more than one orderly lurking around, so it's virtually impossible to escape.

 

Round 3: loon is trained to kill with his bare hands. Loon jumps orderly. Depending on how fast and knowledgeable loon and orderly are, either orderly is dead or loon lies face first on the ground. In the first case, loon tries his luck against the others, but together, the orderlies probably manage to overwhelm him. Not without casualties though.

 

Now, it's getting really interesting. Round 4: loon knows how to kill AND fight like an orderly. Loon jumps orderly, evades orderly's reaction, kills orderly, rushes through all the other orderlies like they were made of paper, and leaves several dead bodies in his wake when he escapes. And mind you, he will escape.

 

Do you now know why I can't learn their way of fighting? If I get so bad that I have to be forcibly restrained, I'd rather not have myself walk away after Round 4. Yeah, I know, Round 3 scenario is dangerous enough, but there, the orderlies still have a chance of overpowering me or at least holding me back until one of the others comes. Do they think I don't know that Heero and Wufei are only a phone call away?

 

Anyways, finally, we have reached Dr. Adams' office, and Dave gives me a lop-sided grin. “Good luck, I hope you get to see your friend.”

 

I nod. “Thanks, I've been getting quite lonely in here lately.”

 

He opens the door for me, and I enter the den of the lion. Blinking, I stare at the strange scene unfolding before me. Adams is almost lounging in his chair behind the heavy steel desk, looking more relaxed than I've ever seen him before, and he's wearing a happy smile that I'd never have thought him capable of. “Come in, my boy, and please close the door behind you.”

 

Ok, now I'm officially freaked. Adams calling me `my boy' and saying `please'? Have Peters' aliens kidnapped my grouchy, growling, grim Doctor Adams?

 

Carefully, I shut the door and turn around to look at him once again. Nope, nothing has changed, he's still wearing that stupid, empty grin. Oh, and there's Heero sitting in another chair in the corner of the room. So that's what Jake's meant with having a visitor. But what the hell's the matter with Adams? I am so confused that it takes me some time to see the smirk on Heero's face. I narrow my eyes, looking from him to Adams and back again. His smirk is growing even wider. Now it's not only Adams who's acting weird, but Heero as well.

 

As nobody says anything, I start feeling uncomfortable, so I begin talking with Heero. If Adams doesn't like that, he will have to open his mouth and tell me, but somehow I doubt that he's got enough brain cells for that at the moment. “Oh? You've come to join me in the nice little loony bin?”

 

Heero efficiently shakes his head. It's strange how relieved I feel hearing his voice that hasn't changed at all from that reassuringly familiar monotone. “I will get you out of here, one way or the other.”

 

I send a cursory glance at Adams who is now vacantly smiling at the door, never reacting. Now, that is really not the doctor I know. Not that I am complaining, but when somebody so anal-retentive (I have no idea if that's the politically correct term for being a complete a**) is acting so brainlessly friendly, something's far from right. Then the proverbial light appears over my head, and I really wish I'd have been left in the dark. Accusingly, I turn to Heero. “What did you do to him? Threats? Drugs?”

 

He's not answering, which is nothing new for the Perfect Icicle. Instead, he's staring into my face, apparently searching for something. It's just good that I've already gotten used to his glares during the war because otherwise, I'd be fidgeting right now. As it is, I still feel uncomfortable standing in front of Heero and an amazingly unresponsive Adams like a school boy waiting to be scolded by the headmaster.

 

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

 

Heero's question startles me so much that instead of gracefully sitting down like I intended to, I plop into the chair with an audible thud. What the h…eck has happened to Heero that he's started thinking of ghosts!?! Has he turned as nutty as I am? Is that why he's here, hoping to spend the rest of his loony days happily ever after together with me? I swear, now I've seen everything.

 

Why is he still staring at me like that? Oh, I guess he wants an answer. I am still too upset, so I'm immediately going on the offensive. “Are you Adams' new shrink now, or do you just want to see how I fare?”

 

His eyes are narrowing, and his stare is frigid. He's as serious as ever, as intense as on a mission. Now, that's the Heero I know, not the one asking me if I believe in ghosts. “Adams doesn't matter. He won't hear a thing. No bugs, you can talk freely.”

 

I snort. “And have YOU evaluate my loony mind instead? I don't think so.”

 

I can almost see the wheels turning in this brain as he calculates different approaches, sorting them for maximum effect and minimal wording while trying to anticipate my reaction to them. Well, have fun, Perfect Soldier, knock yourself out trying to understand a not-so-perfect loon. When he's finally talking, it's with even less emotion than before, a feat that I've thought unfeasible, but he has to prove me wrong once again. “They are real.”

 

The sarcastic barb that just wanted to slip over my lips is swallowed as I have to fight not to choke on my own tongue. Hissing, I loose all patience I've ever had, and that's not a lot. “Say what? If you've finally found your funny-bone, you've chosen hell of a bad time!” Sorry kiddoes, my speech gets worse whenever I'm agitated. Just don't listen to the bad words.

 

He is calm, not at all fazed by my anger. “I am perfectly serious. The ghost standing behind you is as real as Dr. Adams or you.”

 

My head whips around, staring at the spot Heero indicated, and my eyes are almost popping out of my head when I see the shadow hovering there. All words flee my brain with the realization slowly dawning on me. Numbly turning around to face Heero again, I manage to find a few words. “You… you can see it?”

 

“Her.”

 

Gaping, I stare at him. “That… that thing's a her?”

 

He nods. “She died three years ago. Knife to the heart.”

 

I can hear the bone-dry whisper of the shadow rustling its message - which I can't understand. Oooooh kaaaaaay, now the shadow's even listening to what he says and actively trying to communicate. Anybody care to tell me how to wake up from this little hallucination? Please?

 

I frown. “Let's say I believe you. How come that the two of us are the only ones who can see your ghosts?”

 

“Zero.”

 

I blanch at the mentioning of that hideous machine that almost tore my mind apart. It invades you, creeps into your brain, wraps around your thoughts until you believe its ideas are your own. But I guess it's perfectly capable of making someone see ghosts. Shivering with disgust, I croak out. “How?”

 

“It… enhances… the minds it comes into contact with to serve its needs better. Or if they are not suitable at all, it destroys them.”

 

That was why the OZ soldiers who tried to get the Zero-system to work tuned insane. But there's one flaw in his theory. “Do you want to tell me that the ghosts are real and that normal humans are just not equipped to see them? Then why don't Q, Tro or Wu-man see any ghosts?”

 

“Zero thought it more important to increase Winner's empathy. Chang was in there for only one fight, not enough time for Zero to do more than give him a focus to fight for again. And without Zero, Barton's memories would have been lost forever.”

 

Gulping, I swallow, my mouth suddenly painfully dry. “I wasn't that long in Wing, either. And why did it only start gradually, a year after you destroyed it?”

 

His face is as blank as ever, an unreadable mask even to me. And there I was during the war, priding myself on being able to read that icicle. Guess that's all for nil now.

 

“You have always had an affinity for the dead. Zero only gave it a small push to grow stronger. Those abilities already were inside you, Zero didn't do more than bring them closer to the surface.”

 

At that moment, my brain's going into overload mode, shutting off all emotions to deal with the situation rationally. Later, I can break down all I want, but for now it's crucial that I'm at 120%. “So that thing messing with my head makes me able to see ghosts. How do you know about it and why can you…”

 

Slowly, it is dawning on me, and my eyes widen in horror. “It changed you, too, didn't it? You've worn it almost every fucking day for the last month of the colony war and God knows how often before that. It's not only pushed your abilities once or twice in the right direction but…”

 

Quietly, he nods, letting me continue assembling all the fragments I've been handed. “I can be pretty sure that you can see ghosts, better than me if I may add. And I just know that it's you who's made Adams behave so odd. Let's see: added strength, no emotions, disappearing out of my life for god knows how long and leaving me in here with all the crazy little ghosts!”

 

“You are correct. But Zero is not responsible for everything. Dr. J has bred me for strength and endurance greater than a normal human being, and he has trained me not to feel. I have been on an undercover mission for the past few months and Winner told me only yesterday that you were in hospital.”

 

Yeah right, hospital, what a nice name for this loony bin. “So you admit that you are responsible for Adams?”

 

“Yes I am.”

 

Hey, that wasn't Heero talking, I was looking at him the whole time and he hasn't opened his mouth - at all. And that clearly was Adams' voice. I'm frowning so much that I'm not sure if I'll ever get rid of those frown lines. “Spill.”

 

“A human brain has much more undeveloped potential than scientists know. In some people, some traits are developed a little bit further than in others, resulting in the stories about ghostly apparitions, telekinesis, telepathy and other supernatural occurrences. Zero has found all of mine and is helping me access my full potential while ensuring my mental stability is not endangered. And it has made me give you the same choice it has given me at the breaking point.”

 

Wait a minute… Zero IS helping Heero and it HAS made him come here. Does that mean what I think it means? If so, I owe him a nice punch in the face for not telling me and letting me assume that hideous construction was gone together with Wing. I growl at him. “Where have you hidden it?”

 

“It is inside me.”

 

What the fuck!?! “It is inside you,” I repeat, convinced that Heero's really knocked a few screws loose this time. He only nods. Exasperated, I continue. Really, getting Heero to talk is harder than squeezing water out of a stone. “Why do you think it is inside you?”

 

“I destroyed Wing.”

 

“So what?”

 

“I also would have destroyed Zero.”

 

“And you haven't because…?”

 

“Zero had already changed me too much for it to be safe.”

 

Dumbly, I repeat. “Not safe?”

 

“Zero has changed you only minutely, so it took close to four years for you to reach this point. With the changes that were going on inside me at the end of the war, you would have had to kill me about a week afterwards.”

 

“Kill you?” I seem to be stuck with echoing him like a parrot.

 

“Seeing ghosts is only one ability. Others contain a higher potential of destruction if I lost control over them.”

 

I swallow hard. “Then where is it?”

 

He is looking down, and for the first time, I see something that resembles even remotely an emotion. “Zero has transferred itself into my brain.”

 

Now I am blanching so much that I wouldn't be surprised if I turned as white as a sheet. That's even worse than the worst-case scenario I was imagining. “How much is still left of you?”

 

“I am different now, but I am still the same person you met. Zero is separate from my personality, that was a condition. But at the moment, I still need it.”

 

Suddenly, all strength has left my body. Limply, I flop back into my chair. Tiredly, I ask. “What do you want from me?”

 

“As I already said: I will you get out of here, one way or the other. This facility cannot help you.”

 

“What two ways? Convincing everybody to let me leave or breaking out? Killing me or shooting my mind to hell?”

 

“Neither. Zero has changed me enough that I am capable of making your vision of the ghost-world disappear again and stabilize the ability.”

 

What has that hellish machine done to Heero? He has had inhuman traits before, but now… can he still be called human? I am almost afraid to ask what the second possibility is. “That was only one way. What's the other?”

 

He's hesitating for a long time. Is it really that bad? Finally, he whispers. “Continue the change.”

 

Reeling backwards, I almost fall out of the chair. I should have known that Zero would not want to let its experiments go freely. I should have known that Zero would make him try and convince me to join him. But I don't want to feel that terribly cold presence again that made me see and do things I never wanted to do.

 

Suddenly, my overload mode is overloaded itself, and everything comes crashing down around me. Zero has swallowed Heero, and now it is also reaching for me with its slimy tentacles. Squeezing my eyes shut and holding my ears closed, I chant `no' over and over again, trying to shield myself from the hideous machine that has taken over Heero by curling up into a fetal position.

 

When I feel a hand touching my arm, I shy away from it like a frightened animal. Somebody is forcing my hands through some clothing, yanking them around my body, immobilizing me. From far away, I hear something like “Quick, he's got another seizure!”, but my mind doesn't register it.

 

When something is jabbed into my thigh, my eyes involuntarily shoot open, falling onto Heero's calm form sitting there while several orderlies are trying to subdue me. Where the hell did they come from? Don't they know that the really dangerous person is watching them, waiting for me to pass out so that he can take me over? But they don't take notice of Heero, just like Adams didn't, and with my increasingly … dizzy vision it seems… as if the orderlies … are just passing … through him…

 

Blinking, I open my eyes.

 

I look around.

 

A white room, white walls, white sheets. No straightjacket, no restraints. Nothing hinting at a hospital room or my room in the psychiatry ward. No Heero nearby, no Zero in my thoughts. Well, at least I can't feel its whispers in my brain. My shoulder feels stiff, and my head's aching. Probably from the sedative they used.

 

Suddenly, the door is flung open, and there is Quatre, so happy that it makes the room seem that much brighter. When he sees me, he laughs with that lighting up his eyes always do. “Duo! You are finally awake!”

 

I am still watching to see if there are any orderlies around or if there are any shadows waiting, but there is nothing. I can't even feel their presence anymore. Everything just seems so normal, the happenings in the psychiatry ward already blurring at the edges. Was it all a dream? Quatre certainly doesn't act as if I'd just come out of the loony bin. Hesitantly, I ask. “Where am I?”

 

Quatre is frowning. “Don't you remember? You were so happy yesterday that Heero got you out of hospital!”

 

I will get you out, one way or another, Heero's voice is reverberating through me. But hospital? “Why was I in hospital?”

 

Quatre's positively worried by now. Still, he answers. “You really don't remember, do you? You and Heero have gone on a mission.”

 

Mission? What mission? “He got out with nary a scratch, but you've been hit on the head, really hard. They weren't sure if you'd make it, internal bleeding and all, but you pulled through. But yesterday, you seemed fine, no memory loss.”

 

I can see that Quatre's near to breaking down, but at the moment I am too confused to help him. Dimly, something is stirring in my mind. “I went on a mission with Heero. An uprising on L2.”

 

Quatre's nodding emphatically, tears in his eyes. “Yeah, never scare me again like that, you hear?”

 

Slowly, all my memories are coming back. It had all been a dream, the story about Heero visiting me in the loony bin, and the dream is already fading.

 

It is AC 204, I am a 24-year-old ex-terrorist. I fought in the two wars, then I joined Preventers. A few years later, I suddenly couldn't deal with reality anymore and fell into a depression, coupled with some minor hallucinations as I thought I was seeing the ghosts of those I killed. I even had to stay in the psychiatry ward for about three months before the hallucinations went away. And a year later, I was proclaimed stable enough to rejoin Preventers. Now, I am working once again together with Heero and Wufei. We are the only team that consists of three people. Heero did a miracle on that.

 

Then, I get a suspicion. Why did the hallucinations I had suddenly go away from one day to the other? Until now, I've always thought that it had been some new medicine or some new therapy, but the dream would certainly explain a lot. With a smile on my face, I look at Quatre. “I promise I won't. Sorry, I got a little bit confused there, being out of hospital and all. Can I talk to Heero for a second?”

 

“Sure! Remember, you're not allowed yet to get up on your own, so stay here until he comes.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, nanny Quatre. Now can you please fetch Heero?”

 

Laughing, Quatre exits the room, and a few minutes later, Heero comes in. He is just standing there, as stoic as ever. Nothing ever changes with him. Time to test my theory. “Thank you for getting me out, one way or the other!”

 

If I hadn't watched him like a hawk, I would have missed the tiny flicker of recognition passing through his eyes. So that was no dream. He's staring at me for a long time before stating: “You remember.”

 

No question, no insecurities. So I was right. We aren't talking about what happened after the L2 uprising. No, we are talking about the things that had happened in the psychiatry ward almost two years ago. What I dreamed has really happened. The only question is why it took me so long to remember, and why did I remember it at all if Heero has messed with my mind. Did he want me to remember? Why would he want me to remember?

 

In the corners of my vision, I think I see a shadow fluttering and an almost inaudible, bone-dry whisper encourages me. This is the first time that I've been seeing the ghosts again, but somehow I'm not surprised. I think that is Heero's doing, trying to judge what my reaction is to them after those two years, if I'm ready for the choice he's given me. How far has Zero changed him? How powerful is Heero really?

 

It has never occurred to me that Heero could be lying or making up a story about Zero and the ghosts. I've felt Zero's artificial intelligence sifting through my brain myself, and although the story Heero's told me in the psychiatry ward sounds way out of this world, it is well inside Zero's limits. But Zero's got no consideration for human rights. If it had been Zero meeting me in the loony bin, it would have changed me and taken me over without asking or telling me about it.

 

So Heero's told me the truth about being separate from Zero. He has done something to make the ghosts go away when I couldn't deal with them, and I don't think that's what Zero would have wanted. But now that I'm better, he doesn't hide the truth from me anymore.

 

Heero and I are staring at each other, me sitting up in the bed, him leaning against the wall. The silence is stretching out between us as I'm trying to make up my mind. The ghost is whispering some more, but it doesn't disturb me anymore now that I know that it is real and why I can see it. I think that had been the worst, being caught in a limbo of doubting my own sanity.

 

But why has Heero brought up the ghosts once again? I am pondering the question until I suddenly know the reason. He is the only one who has those powers Zero has given him, and he is lonely. Yes, I think even the Perfect Soldier enhanced by the Perfect Machine needs somebody to talk to because he's still human in the core of his heart. That realization almost breaks my heart.

 

I nod, having made my decision. “Yeah, I remember. But I can't remember ever giving you an answer. Have I?”

 

“No.”

 

Yeah, at that moment, I had been too afraid of Zero, of Heero, of the shadows, of the implications, of myself. Now that I've had almost five years of living and working with Heero, both before and after my time in the loony bin, I can see that Zero hasn't turned him into the monster I feared. It hasn't made him insane. It hasn't done anything of the likes I've been afraid of. “Can I give you the answer now?”

 

He smiles. “I already know it.”

 

Yeah, he would. Zero's always been big on predicting the future, and he seems to be able to do everything that that machine can and then some more. Nonetheless I say it out loud, partly to hear my own voice, partly to hear the decision I've made.

 

“Continue.”

 

There, I've said it, and now, I'm almost afraid. But I won't back down from my decision; that's not my style. Pushing off the wall, he comes closer with the silent step he hasn't lost since the war. When he's motioning for me to lie down again, I become really nervous, but it is soothed away by the hand carefully touching my cheek. He feels warm as he bends over me, looking into my eyes. Have I ever mentioned how alive they are?

 

Then he does something, I don't know what, but I loose all sense of time while I am being caught in that stare.

 

When I can think on my own again, I wonder how my eyes have slipped closed without my notice.

 

Blinking, I open my eyes.

 

I look around.

 

A white room. White walls, white ceiling, white bed.

 

And there is Heero.

 

And for the first time in my life, I see.