Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Cadaver Company ❯ To the Moon and Back ( Chapter 5 )

Cadaver Company

 

Chapter Five: To The Moon And Back

 

Yup, a coffin. No, I was not planning for Heero's death. What other way could I possibly sneak a comatose guy onto a shuttle without anyone being suspicious? Claiming he was drunk wouldn't work for a thirty-six hour trip into space. People tend to regain consciousness before then if they're only smashed.

I rented a single room from a sleazy motel- no questions asked if you have enough paper to tempt the owner to look the other way- and set Heero up in the bed, ignoring the moans and pounding against the wall from the room to our left. I needed to get some sleep myself before going casket shopping but hey, maybe all that noise would be enough to make Heero Silent Yuy wake up and shoot someone.

Looking at his beautifully slack face, I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for it.

I settled down carefully next to Heero and crashed into unconsciousness.

Lack of sleep and stress combined to give me dreams that would have any psychologist in the earth and colonies scratching their heads. Something about having to attend the funeral of Heero's dead pet tuna fish.

Feeling functional again I quickly set to work getting everything ready. I ordered myself some pizza, bought Heero a suit on EBay and looked up the locations of funeral homes to buy the casket. Then I checked up on renting a truck to move the casket once I was on L3, bought a shuttle ticket for the day after tomorrow and filed my forms for the `extra' baggage.

Before hitting the sack, I risked checking up on the status of my shipment to L3. The space ports let you do that these days- a screen comes up with a miniature little shuttle slowly making its way from your spot on the Earth map to your specific cluster of colonies.

It was close to midnight before I went back to bed, checking on Heero's bandages and drip. I curled up on my side, making the rise and fall of his chest the last thing I saw as dreams claimed me.

To my intense shame, I woke up…cuddled- for lack of a better word- up to Heero's side. I couldn't have gotten any closer if I tried.

…Well maybe I could but you get the point.

God, I was cuddling my coma patient. They have buildings with bars on the windows and padded walls for people like me, I think. Maybe the stress of the last week has finally gotten to me and I've somehow gone insane without my knowing it.

Of course, if I knew it I couldn't be insane right? The whole crazy people don't know they're crazy. Hm. I'm good then.

I ended up having to leave Heero unguarded again, much to my displeasure. I hate leaving a man like that- mercenaries, contrary to popular belief, are startlingly loyal to each other and `the family'. Leaving Heero like that went against everything I'd had drilled into my head for as long as I can remember.

….which isn't saying much, really, considering I'm prone to amnesia. It's the thought that counts, though. I could have stuck up a perimeter but it would have looked a mite suspicious if I was seen sticking motion detectors in the ground around the motel. And completely pointless with the people in room nine going at it again.

So I just had to suck it up and push forward.

I'm not all too sure about normal, everyday citizens but casket shopping is damn depressing.

Maxwell would love it- he'd probably take the time to test out every model for comfort or something just as ridiculous. I found it a drag, mostly because I couldn't help but think that most people who have died in my life never had the luxury of having a casket for themselves.

It's a sobering thought. I think I would want a casket of my very own some day.

I almost can't believe I spent the day window shopping for a coffin. Or that the funeral director fell for my sob story about bringing my spacer brother home to put him at rest with the stars- most spacers are cremated and have their ashes thrown into space, very few can afford to be buried. The old man was a sap though. There were even a few tears.

Then I received a curtsey tour of the home and got a very good scope of just how much security the place had and where everything was.

I left the old man with the idea that I'd be returning in two days to get the shiny black casket in the first room we visited. Really, I would be returning later that night for the silvery white one in the third room. Hopefully that would keep them off my trail long enough to get us off earth.

Hopefully- there's that word again. The killer of all half-assed plans.

Everything was set; I just had to wait until nightfall for it all to fall into place.

I returned to the motel, got propositioned by the hooker leaving room 9 and interrogated by the drunk from room 11. He seemed to be of the belief that I was a spy or terrorist sent to kill him for accidentally accessing the government's website and she seemed to think I needed a blowjob.

It's vaguely amazing that they were both partly right.

A lot of tension left my body as Heero's still form came into sight. It's probably damaging to my mental state to be seeking reassurance from an unconscious person but I was beyond the point of caring.

I showered, packed and ate before sitting down and simply waiting for night to come. I sat and stared at Heero, counting his breaths, cleaning his bandages and holding his hand. The last of the two were more for my benefit than his.

It was alarmingly reassuring to know that in twenty-four hours we would both be on a shuttle going off-planet. Earth is like a strange sort of heaven to any colony children but the only thing I wanted was off and back between the stars where everything was familiar and there were no harpies with rose-cream to stain your hair. Or suicidal pilots to blow themselves up. Or bratty kids looking for sugar.

Now that's pure heaven.

Heero's suit arrived at seven that night- thank Someone for express delivery- and I got his body ready before myself. I wanted to leave this place quickly and make our eight o'clock shuttle in the morning.

It was a bit of a funny fit- the suit was about two sizes too big and Heero was loosing some weight. It was black and wrinkled, and the rose in the pocket was dead and brown but no one would be opening the casket once it was locked down in the cargo bay.

The bay will thankfully be pressurized and heated- mostly because passengers with pets are frequent on shuttles- and nobody wants a flash frozen body, dead or not.

Had it been any other time, I probably would have admired how good Heero looked in a suit- he looks great in anything- but this time there was something a bit too…..somber about the whole idea. I was essentially dressing him for his death; that doesn't really inspire thoughts of little ducks and fluffy bunnies. I think if Heero ever truly died I would never attend the funeral- I'd hate to see him like this again, permanently.

That might not have been the best mood to put myself in to pull off a heist but I'm annoyingly stupid like that. By the time I left the motel room, I was in a state of mind that had me ending up in a casket of my very own.

I managed to shake that off by the time I was a few blocks from the funeral home. That's the great part about being a Gundam pilot and having all that intense training- you can lie to yourself so easily.

Entering the building was easy- almost too easy. Although, I did run my hip into the pointy edge of high coffee table and knock over two flower arrangements that had been moved form this morning.

I dealt with the two minor problems- the first by limping the second by kicking the bits of glass under an ugly rug in the hall and throwing the flowers in a closet- before moving on.

I nearly waked past the third room and growled loudly when I got a good look at the lock. It was one of those electronic ones that made Maxwell curse a blue streak and start shooting.

Thankfully I had my laptop and cables or I would have had to give up and ship Heero to L3 in a wooden crate.

It took ten minutes and a few of the shadows tried to give me a heart condition but the echoing click of the door was a relief. I caught it before the door could swing into the room completely and had to pray to whatever deity that had made me do so.

The room had a laser grid on the floor. If the solid wood door had passed through one of the lines it would have been all over.

Easing into the room took a moment, and nearly sucking my stomach into my spine, but it was possible and I did do it. Ah, the benefits of being tall and skinny- and yes, there are benefits, not just the whole being able to see in movie theatres thing either.

Hm, so I'm stuck in a room with a kick-ass security system and I need to move a coffin from one side of the room to the door without tripping over the scary red lasers. Joy. Pure and utter joy- that was my mood at the moment.

If I were more inclined to mindless ramblings, I'd be questioning the possibility of my life being one big cosmic joke. Someone has to be laughing at my expense because I certainly was not.

My best bet was making my way over to the alarm system and trying to manually dismantle it without alerting the local authories of a break in.

I tip-toed over the glowing red lines, wondering briefly why someone would have this much security for a bunch of pretty-ed up wooden boxes that are only going to end up buried. I mean, who'd really want to steal a casket?

…..oh yeah- me.

I reached the wall, trip free and flipped the little plastic case off the number pad only to have to catch it as it broke off. Hm, maybe it's a cheap model or old. That would be good- easier to break into and an old system doesn't have half the traps the new ones have.

I spent ten minutes studying the company name- which was strangely unfamiliar- and the make of the system before taking out my tiny screw driver kit and began working at the screws…

…..only to have the whole damn square slide off the wall and smash on the floor.

I stared at it with a sinking feeling in my gut before kicking one foot out to test the lasers. I hit the light and watched as it popped of the wall with a growl.

It was a fucking fake.

The whole set up was made to look like some high-tech security system- from the control panel to the little laser pointers all glued on the wall in a grid formation. All fake.

I could have cheerfully killed that old man for this. It was already three thirty in the damn morning and I had lost too much time dancing round little red lights.

It's times like these that I even embarrass myself.

I was careful to be quiet as I rolled my casket of choice out of the room but I was sulky enough to knock some of the flowers on the floor and switch around the obvious order of the boxes. It may have been to cover which one I'd taken but I took a perverse pleasure in messing up someone's pattern.

Ha.

I may be a Gundam pilot but even Heero would have to agree that a casket is fucking heavy. Logically, it's a damn hollow box with a bit of fluff stuck to the insides- what's so heavy about that?

Trying to fit it into the back of a hearse, it felt more like a whole damn tree and a few of its cousins. I smashed my fingers on the end of the trunk space and smacked my knee into the trolley before it fit properly.

By the way things were going I'd need a casket myself to get off of Earth. Or a wheelchair in the least.

I hobbled my way to the driver's side door and gingerly sat in the seat. I'd filched the set of keys for the hearse; now all I had to do was drive it to the alley behind the motel and grab Heero and my stuff.

I can pilot a Gundam. I can pilot a freaking airplane. I can drive a transport truck. When it comes to transportation, any type, I'm damn good.

But I cannot drive a hearse.

It is a long, awkward and ugly thing to drive and it handles like shit. I was tempted to simply drag my bounty to the nearest bus stop and get to the space sport that way after nearly taking out another pretty blue mailbox.

I would be unlucky enough to grab the keys to the one vehicle that was broken beyond belief. I tried to console myself with the thought that things would be better when I returned to L3 and the circus.

But damn if I would be letting Cathy throw knives at me for a while.

I made it to the motel and parked around the back awkwardly. Good news would be I only hit one trash can.

The hooker was gone from my door- probably back in room 9 with whoever was making that horrible grunting noise. I grabbed the duffle and set Heero's body back up. The drip should be good for the next few days if I set him up with a new one right before I went to check in.

I dashed out to the hearse to drop off the duffle and backpack of supplies before returning to get my pain-in-the-ass. Then I just sort of looked at him. I wouldn't get to see Heero during the trip- and I wouldn't chance trying. It would suck if I ended up getting us caught while we were in space.

His face was pale, so much so that the natural tint of gold in his skin looked too yellow to be healthy. Well, I suppose its good he looks a bit like a dead person then- just in case anyone decides to open the casket.

His hair is still in its damn perpetual messy state. It looks nice that way. I think so anyway. Chang's got nice hair too- when it's not busy keeping the wrinkles out of his forehead. Maxwell's hair is pretty too but Heero's hair says a lot about him. It's just as confusing as it's..master? Owner? Whatever one calls the person who reins over his hair. It's prickly-looking but soft and silky- much like Heero is.

……I'm seeing way too much in this. Soon, I'll be creating sonnets to his fingernails and counting his eyelashes. Time to move.

I threw Heero over my shoulder, careful of the drip and left the keys on the keeper's desk before making my way back to the hearse. It was getting close to five in the morning by now and the shuttle was scheduled to leave at eight.

The back of a hearse isn't all that spacey, especially for actually opening a coffin. Then again, who really expects to have to open the lid again once it's in the car huh? I finally maneuvered Heero in the right position and toyed with the thought of crossing his arms over his chest like Dracula before simply clasping them across his stomach.

Still, it would have been funny to have a vampire Heero riding in the back. I could imagine the face of anyone curious enough to try and crack the top of his coffin.

I kept the lid up as we drove away from the motel and headed towards the space port. I couldn't help but chuckle as I realized I was driving a stolen hearse down the highway with a casket in the back, filled with a person who was still alive. I swear they make the warning labels for people like me.

I was unimaginably thankful for the absence of any police. I think the episode with the last cop I ran into- er, bad choice of words there- saw, was enough to give me a complex about authority figures.

The town was still pretty sleepy looking as I drove through the streets- what with it being a Saturday morning. Normal people sleep in on Saturdays, I think. I've barely slept in the last four days so the concept is a little skewed for me right now.

I did get a funny look from an old lady walking her fluffy little dog as I stopped at a red light. I suppose I look a bit young to be driving a hearse but people in the funeral business are a somber bunch so that helps.

I've been told countless times that I make people think I don't know how to smile. Maxwell even promised to pay for the stitches once.

I wonder what he'd say if he knew I had a job at the circus as a clown.

It was quarter to seven when I pulled into the Space Port.

Heero's drip was changed with speed- I was familiar with it by now- and I closed the lid slowly.

“See you on L3.”

It was a promise of sorts, to a guy who would never know I promised it but it made me feel….better. Like I still had a purpose. I'd nearly forgotten, in all the excitement, my acceptance of making Heero well and keeping him safe when I nabbed his body up in Siberia. This was just me being anal and reaffirming my previously unspoken promise.

The woman behind the counter this time was old. There was no other way to describe it but old; really, really old. If asked, I would have bet on her being around when the ice caps melted at the end of the ice age.

As I filled out even more paper work I got to know the names of her twelve children, twenty-three grand-children and eight great-grand-children. Hino Saisah had been married for sixty-four years and had a vermin problem behind her house. Knowing that some people's problems didn't even begin to touch my own was the greatest thing in the world. Really.

“Could I supervise my brother's transport into the shuttle, ma'am?” I asked quietly- of course it was quietly, did I do anything in a loud manner?

She gave me a gentle, old lady smile and nodded.

“Of course, dear. I'll show you to the security port and from there you can watch as they load up.” She hobbled out from behind the counter and motioned to another younger girl to take her place.

I could only watch for so long before offering her my arm. I may be a `cold, heartless, murdering' Gundam pilot but I would feel bad if I gave some old lady a heart attack by making her show me around the Space Port.

It's kids I have no compassion for. Bratty little suckers.

I watched like a man obsessed as the silvery white casket was pushed into the security room and scanned briefly confirming the presence of a body in there and nothing more.

Straps were applied- the ones that need to be cut off when the package reaches its proper place. I'd forgotten about those. That made me feel a bit better.

Saisah took me to stand in the space port, at the observation window over looking the launch pad. I watched Heero-In-A-Box be wheeled out to the shuttle and kept watching even as the silvery white of his casing disappeared.

That must have made my guide nervous because she made me sit down and buy something from one of the cafés before I had to leave.

The last week decided to catch up with me as I was scoffing down my turkey sandwich and I nearly missed the boarding call. I met the ticket handler with a large coffee stain on my shirt and a scowl on my face. These people have no idea how weird I feel right now with actual emotions on. I'm damn freaky looking.

I dropped my duffle off in my assigned cabin before heading to my seat. Once we were safely in space I could leave everyone else behind and hide away in my own little room.

And give myself an ulcer worrying about Heero. Great.

As I sat in seat J18, rubbing my temples to stop the damn throbbing a tension headache was causing I heard a sharp intake of breath.

I glanced up and nearly left the shuttle.

It was Sugar Kid from all the way back in Tokyo.

I think I was glaring because he `epp'ed and quickly sat down in his seat. The woman next to him, who had to be his mother, shot the boy a funny look but he simply shook his head and looked ready to piss his pants.

I smirked.

I've still got it.

We launched five minutes earlier than expected, the attendants hurrying to apply anti-nausea patches and calm first-time flyers. I was clam, cool and collected. Hell, I almost fell asleep.

Unfortunately, your body will tell you when it's getting rundown and I had my first ever nose bleed from re-entry into space. I felt like a fool even though half of the other passengers had them.

A nose bleed! I was ashamed- deeply, deeply ashamed.

I hid in my cabin as soon as the all-clear was given. Not even Sugar Kid's squeak as I dashed by helped my mood.

I had just finished cleaning up and had my shirt half way up my chest when a knock sounded on my door. I growled softly. Probably the flight attendants.

It was Sugar Kid's mother.

I will never claim to be a fortune teller.

“Excuse me sir.” She said nervously, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “I believe my son has been…..acting oddly since your arrival on the shuttle and I-“

I cut her off, tired and irritated. “I believe you sent him out to get a cup of sugar a few days ago and he came to my apartment. I might not have been the most charming host.”

She looked surprised. “Oh! He was a brat wasn't he?” She snapped her fingers. “I'll have to have a talk with him later.”

Then a sort of gleam entered her dark gaze, making me nervous. That was the same look Relena got around Heero.

“You know,” she tried to purr. “Some people would call this fate- meeting each other on the same plane.”

I kept my face blank as I answered. “Really? I call it bad luck.”

Then I might have slammed the door in her face. Just a little bit.

It never hit me until after I had locked my door that Sugar Kid's mother had just hit on me. She had to have been at least twenty-five or thirty. I'm sixteen. I'm not entirely sure that's completely legal in Japan.

Huh.

I was officially in space and things were still damn scary. Not a good omen.

I'm not exactly sure when I drifted off but I slept for most of the trip out to the L3 cluster. I ate twice and showered as well. And avoided Sugar Kid and his Hoochie mom.

Yes hoochie- I heard a merc say it once…….

I did that embarrassingly clichéd thing and took a deep breath of air as I left the shuttle. True, I wasn't on Earth anymore and the air on all colonies is filtered but L3 simply smells like L3.

It's comforting.

I quickly made my way through the crowd at the Space Port- it's always much more busy up in the colonies than Earth- and quickly found the desk I was looking for. I wanted to get Heero out of that damn box now.

The girl- Lindsay her tag said- dimpled at me prettily before typing into her little computer.

I think the deity that has been plaguing me so far knew I had put my guard down because I felt panic start to stir in my gut at her sudden frown.

I got the completely fake smile and “Please wait one moment, sir.” Before she dashed off in a flurry of blue vest and clicking heels.

What had happened? Had some of the other cargo come undone and smashed the casket? Had someone opened it to find a living person instead of a corpse? Had they recognized Heero as a Gundam pilot? Had they recognized me?

Lindsay returned with an older, stern-looking man. He had a black vest- that somehow seemed important.

“Mr. Barton you are here to retrieve the casket of your late brother?”

I nodded. “Is there a problem?”

He shot Lindsay a look. “Yes, Mr. Barton. It appears as though your brother's coffin didn't arrive on your shuttle.” He grimaced. “It's missing.”