Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Deadly Beautiful ❯ Nightmares ( Chapter 30 )

Disclaimer: I'm going to Switzerland this summer, and university in the fall, and I can't afford to be sued, so please let the higher-ups in charge of GW never find me or take me to court. Will it help if I readily admit that I don't own Gundam Wing in any way, shape, form or dimension?

Deadly Beautiful - Chapter 30

By danse

Trowa absently twiddled the car keys around his finger as he strolled towards the main door of the compound on the upper level. He raised an eyebrow and ever so slightly nodded at the large man in the red shirt, who was about to pass him. As they drew even with each other, the large man stopped. "She wants to know if you have a plan yet," he murmured.

"Working on the details," Trowa whispered back before moving on. Actually, that wasn't the truth. There weren't any details to work on, yet. He needed a plan first, before he could have the details. He shook his head in frustration as he pushed open the outer door and stepped into the warm early afternoon.

Less than five minutes later, he was in a black sedan, racing with practiced ease along the curves and bends of the road leading to the closest town. He was headed for Kirkini from there--a ninety-minute drive. He left the compound once a week to sample the real world and soak up the rarely-seen fresh air and sunshine, usually heading for the same Greek town. He liked the people and the scenery there. About six months ago, he'd set up a post office box to communicate with his many contacts in the Mediterranean.

When he finally pulled up in front of the post office in Kirkini, the sun was at its peak, and it hurt his eyes to look at anything. He shaded them as he walked inside the building, pulling a small key from his pocket to unlock his box. A small, white envelope lay inside, half-obscured by a magazine he got weekly as a decoy. Pulling both items out, he quickly shut the box and tucked the envelope into his back pocket, curling the magazine in his hands as he walked back out into the sunlight. His favourite cafe was down the block, and he went in to buy lunch to appease his snarling stomach.

Settling down with juice and a sandwich at a corner table, he finally pulled the envelope out of his pocket and opened it. A few lines were printed neatly on crisp, white note paper: '42.5 N 42.3 E Georgia, 06/11, 0230 hours. Infiltration and destruction. With or without you. Equipment provided. Meet at Athens 06/10, 1245 hours. You have twenty minutes to be there or you miss the boat. PS. Let's not use the vents this time?'

Trowa smirked as he reread the message and then tucked it back in his pocket. Sounds good to me, he thought as he finished off his sandwich. June 10th... that was only about two weeks away. Have to start planning my getaway. Too bad I can't just book time off from work. He slurped his juice and opened the magazine, trying to reorganize his brain as he temporarily pushed Catherine to the back.

"So, what were you and Pargan talking about yesterday?" Relena asked. She was lying on her mother's bed in their hotel room, staring at the ceiling while Mrs. Darlian walked out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry.

The older woman walked to her suitcase and picked out some clean clothes to wear as she answered. "We were discussing where to go from here. I told him we've just come to visit, and we talked about Edward, and your brother, and the country. It's become more or less democratic over the years, I knew that from keeping an eye on the news, but a constitutional monarchy is not out of the question. In Pargan's opinion, the return of the royal house would be a huge national morale booster."

"And what does all that mean?" Relena asked, moving her head to look at her foster mother as she moved, fully dressed now, to sit in the chair opposite Relena, basking in the morning sunlight that streamed through the curtains.

Mrs. Darlian wore an unreadable look. "I guess that means that once you come into your majority, you can sit on the throne."

Relena sat upright suddenly, and her piercing blue stare went right to the older woman's bones, giving her a strange feeling of foreboding. "And until then? What will I do?" she asked excitedly.

Her mother crossed her arms, feeling uncomfortable. "I'd like for you to go back to the States to finish high school, at least. College would be good, too. Grand rulers need to be wise in the ways of the world, you know." She said the last bit teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't really work.

"There was a 'but' in your tone," Relena said, refusing to be diverted from her train of thought.

Her mother sighed, knowing there was no escape now. "Pargan informed me that there's a lovely private school here in Vaduz for 'cultured young ladies', as he puts it. You most likely would have gone there, had you not left."

"Had you not taken me," Relena muttered, looking at the carpet.

Her words didn't go unnoticed. "Would you rather be dead?" her mother snapped. "Because you would be, if Edward and I hadn't gotten you out. Sometimes you need to be a little more grateful for what you have, young lady. It could be a lot worse!"

Relena stared at her in shock, completely floored. She'd never seen her mother snap at her so suddenly. As the shock faded, she looked at the woman in front of her, really looked, for the first time in her life. She had strong, handsome features, molded by an exciting and somewhat dangerous life into the kind of attractiveness that can only come with age and experience. Her fading blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, framing light blue eyes that were tired, sad, and travel-weary, but still defiant. Relena realized that she looked a lot older than she had a week ago. She fled her home country as a favour, with a baby who didn't belong to her, and raised me thousands of miles away as her own. Her husband died and now her life's been turned around. And here I am, being a brat. Her respect for Allison Darlian increased tenfold in that instant. If I'm half that patient, brave, and wise when I'm her age, I'll be lucky.

"I'm sorry," Relena whispered. She got up, walked over to the chair, and hugged her mother. "I'm sorry for everything." They clung to each other for a moment, soaking up the warmth and comfort before breaking apart and getting back to business. "Now, what was this about a school?" she asked.

In another, much less expensive inn twenty blocks away, Noin was having a lovely dream involving whales, ice cream, and sandcastles when a cassette tape of the Reveille started playing next to her ear.

Her eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright, hands automatically moving into a combat position as she looked wildly around the room for an intruder. Instead, she saw Zechs, perched fully-clothed on the end of her bed, waving the tape player and smirking. "Rise and shine, Lucy. Were you planning to sleep all day?" he asked teasingly.

She looked across the room to his bed. It was already made to quarter-bouncing standards. Frowning, she glanced at the alarm clock on the table between the beds. The electric red numbers said that it was quarter to ten. "Jesus," she growled, rubbing her eyes and scratching her head as she yawned. "Why didn't you wake me sooner? And why did you wake me with that?" She looked pointedly at the tape player in his hand.

"I have a sick sense of humour," he said. "And you were sleeping so peacefully. I thought you could use the rest."

She stared at him, and then shook her head. "Thanks... I think." She gestured at his bed. "You know, they have cleaning staff who get paid to make the beds."

Zechs shrugged. "Force of habit." He studied his fingernail as Noin slid out of bed and padded into the bathroom in boxers and a camisole. "Did you think up a master plan yet?" he called after her.

A muffled 'Nope' was just audible over the sound of the shower turning on. He smirked and started making her bed.

Oh, god, Hilde thought dimly. Not this again.

She was in the car, her seatbelt snug against her as she looked out of the rain-streaked window. Her parents and brother were talking in muffled voices because she hadn't been listening to them at the time. She saw dirty, pink sneakers on her feet. She was singing a song under her breath and she couldn't stop, even though she tried to every time.

No... no... get me out of here, her thoughts whimpered. She kept singing, watching raindrops larger than life.

She saw the rain flash ruby and amber and heard her mother scream as the car lurched.

In New York, it was nearly four in the morning. Duo was buried in a heap of blankets, sleeping peacefully, when a sudden, piercing scream roused him.

"What the--" he yelped, startling awake. Adrenaline pounded through him as he sat upright, breathing heavily and trying to see through the darkness of his room as he groped for the drawer of his bedside table. His hand found the handle and wrenched it open, revealing the loaded handgun inside as his sleep-addled brain tried to figure out where the scream had come from. Hilde! he thought suddenly, taking the safety off of the gun and stalking out into the equally dark hallway.

Oh no, oh god, the glass, the metal... it smells like burning rubber.... There was rain on her face and it was mixing with the blood and she heard this horrible wailing, and it was her, oh god, it was her. "Mom.... Mo-o-o-o-ommy-y-y-y!"

Will's head was nearly in her lap, and she touched it and screamed. He was strong, and older--this wasn't supposed to be happening. He was supposed to protect her.

Duo's eyes adjusted to the dark and he tuned all of his senses to the quiet apartment. He saw no shadows of menacing figures outlined against the lighter walls, and heard no footfalls. He moved into the living room, and another scream nearly made him drop the gun. He ran to the couch and saw Hilde there, sweating and tangled in the blankets as she moved around frenetically, deep in a nightmare. She was muttering under her breath now, but he couldn't make out the words.

Duo carefully put the safety back on the gun and hid it behind the couch before addressing the problem. I have to wake her up before she wakes the neighbourhood, he thought. But what do I do? You're not supposed to touch them, are you? He knelt there helplessly for a minute, mired in indecision, before finally reaching hesitantly for her shoulder. "Hilde... Hilde, wake up," he said softly.

She could hear growling. Monsters? Never monsters before.... she thought.

One of them crawled up to the car, a twisted hunk of metal and glass, and sniffed her. It smelled the blood, that had to be it. Nononono, not this, no, not this.... She felt for Will's cold hand. She couldn't find it. Suddenly it was on her shoulder. Just the hand, dead and already rotting and sitting on her shoulder. She was too paralyzed to scream again, so she stared at it. I just... have to... get it away... and it'll be good again.... her mind panted. She tensed herself. Ready....

"GET OFF!" She flung it away.

The instant his hand touched her shoulder, her whole body tensed up. Her eyes opened, unseeing, and her hand grabbed his wrist. Before he could react, she yelled, twisted his wrist, and shoved him several feet away with one hand. He stumbled backwards in surprise, overbalanced, and crashed to the floor, catching his hip on the coffee table on the way down. Pain flashed through his brain, and he curled up into a ball. "Owww, fuck," he moaned, holding his side. It would probably leave a disgusting bruise. There was something more alarming than that, though. He eased himself upright and stared at her.

In his experience, Hilde was bad at fighting. She scratched, bit, kicked and swore, but couldn't really hold her own. She'd just used a basic martial arts-style technique on him in her sleep. One that he could still remember learning in combat training under G, back when he'd started the program. Trying to ignore his throbbing side, he crawled to his feet and hobbled to the couch, standing just out of her reach as he studied her. Dear god, no... that bastard.... his thoughts growled, as an idea settled heavily on his mind. I can't jump to conclusions yet, he thought. I'll wait until I know for sure before I say anything and risk my cover. She was waking up. He edged closer.

"Hilde. Hilde, are you okay?" he whispered.

She mumbled something, and then suddenly stretched and blinked. "Duo?" she said, trying to focus on him.

He knelt next to the couch. "I'm here. You were having a nightmare."

She stared at him for a second, and then her eyes widened. "What time is it?"

"Four in the morning. Come on; kitchen." He hauled her up by the arm.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, but she followed anyway.

He flipped on a light in the kitchen. "The worst thing you can do after having a nightmare is go right back to sleep. Hot chocolate or warm milk?"

"Hot chocolate, please." After a few minutes, they were both sitting at the counter, blowing on hot cups.

"So," Duo said eventually, tugging up the back of his boxers, "are you gonna tell me what the deal was with that? I bet you remember."

She started looking at her spoon studiously. "I never remember my dreams."

"You were screaming. You must remember that one." He reached out and lifted her chin, looking into her troubled eyes. "And you're a terrible liar."

She glared. "Why do you want to know, anyway? It's none of your business."

He shrugged with his eyebrows. "I'm just trying to look out for you, you know." He looked down at his cup, and then glanced at her through his bangs. "Sometimes it helps to get these things off your chest."

She gnawed her lip for a second, and then sighed. "I haven't had that dream for a while. I don't know why I'm having it now, all of a sudden. I'm an orphan," she said in a flat voice. "My parents and my brother all died in a car accident when I was twelve."

"And you didn't."

"No. I...." She had to stop and compose herself. "I was lucky. Concussion and whiplash. They, ah... they put me in foster care after that, and I ran away from it right after I turned fourteen. Lived on the street after that."

"You don't have any other relatives?" Duo asked.

"My brother Will and I are--um, were--first-generation German-Americans. If I have other family, I've never met them, 'cause we could never really afford to go back, I guess. Or my parents didn't want to. I never asked." She hadn't looked right at him once during her story, but she did then, and he saw that her eyes were shining with tears waiting to fall. "I--I haven't told anyone about that before, you know. Not even Marie, and she was like a sister."

Duo nodded sympathetically. "Street kids don't talk about their pasts," he said. Suddenly, he got up and gave her a hug. Her surprise melted into relief, and she hugged him tightly as she cried tears that she'd been holding back too long.