Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Pretender ❯ One-Shot

Pretender

by KatiKat



When the phone rang, he picked up the reciever. "Doctor J," he announced himself.

"J, it´s me," said the quiet voice on the other side of the line.

J´s face brightened and he leaned back in the armchair in his office. "Heero. It´s good to hear from you, boy."

"Yeah... you too."

There was an awkward pause. "How are you?" asked J in the end. He was really happy to hear from him.

"Good. I... I just wanted to call and wish you Merry Christmas."

J swallowed, feeling a painful pang in the vicinity of his heart. "Thank you." He knew it was useless to ask, but he had to: "Won´t you come back home?"

There was a sigh on the other side of the line. "I don´t have a home, J."

"But the Centre..." J protested.

"The Centre is NOT my home," Heero interrupted his mentor, a sharp tone in his voice. "It was my prison and I won´t come back. Ever. I would rather die."

Now it was time for J to sigh. He was still convinced that the controlled surrounding of the research centre was the best place for the young Pretender but he couldn´t
deny that some of the methods that were used in the past to force the subject that was Heero to reach the necessary results were beyond inhuman. He couldn´t blame him for wanting to stay away.

"I... I think that´s all..."

"Wait!" J called before his pupil could hang up.

"Tracing the call won´t help you, J."

"I´m not tracing it. Mr. Maxwell is not here," J answered quickly.

He could hear the snort on the other side of the line. "Really? Well that´s a surprise. And where is he? Don´t tell me he is spending Christmas with his family? His brother and Maxwell Sr. are more than one can take and stay relatively sane." There was so much sarcasm in his voice that J frowned.

"No. I think he is spending Christmas alone. I suspect his family didn´t even think about wishing him Merry Christmas," J said, sadness in his voice. He remembered Heero and Mr. Maxwell as little children, how happy they were, how they used to play together. They were the best of friends. He knew even though they tried to keep it a secret. With pain in his heart, he wondered what had gone so terribly wrong between them.

There was a long pause on the other side of the line, and J almost feared that Heero hung up. "I... I have to go," Heero said finally.

J felt regret well up in him. "I understand, boy. I won´t ask where you are or what you are doing, but... are you safe and warm?" he couldn´t help but ask. He always considered Heero his son.

A quiet laugh sounded through the distance that separated them. "Yeah, J. Don´t worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"Yes, you can," J agreed. If someone could then it was the Pretender - a man who could be anyone he wanted to be, changing everything but his looks, slipping into the wished role like a new skin, living a new life every day. He had abilities others couldn´t even dream about. But that didn´t mean that he was happy. Instead of using his abilities for the profit of the Centre - a secret research institution - he chose to help people. Heero was the first person that escaped from the impenetrable headquarters of the Centre and now he was out there in the wide world. Alone. And with Mr. Maxwell and his "cronies" on his heels. Heero was just too precious for the Centre to let him
go.

"So... goodbye." And with that Heero hung up, leaving J in the dimly lit room alone again.

Suddenly the door to J´s office burst open, revealing a young man dressed all in black, a long rope of brown hair hanging down his back. "I heard that your trained monkey called again," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, he did, Mr. Maxwell," J answered, hanging up the receiver.

"And why didn´t you call me? You know the drill. When that monster of yours calls you, you contact me immediately, Frankenstein." The young man leaned against J´s table and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He picked one and lit it. He took a deep breath and released the smoke through his nose.

J frowned at him in displeasure, pointing to the "NO SMOKING" sign on his table. Maxwell took the sign and threw it in the waste bin not the least bit concerned about it.

"So what did he say? I hope it wasn't some strange psychobabble again. I think we have already gathered tons of tapes with you two discussing Nietzsche." He took another drag off his cigarette.

J reached with his hand, and flipped the climatization in the windowless room a degree higher. "He just wanted to wish me Merry Christmas."

"Oh." That seemed to startle the longhaired young man. "I almost forgot it was Christmas again," he whispered, suddenly sounding sad and forlorn. But then he shrugged it off, slipping into his bad ass persona once again. "Well, that gives us not much to work with. I hope you taped it."

J sighed and opened the small tape recorder attached to his phone, throwing him the microcassette. Maxwell caught it and looked at it with mild interest.

"Is that all?" J asked impatiently.

Maxwell smirked at him. "Why? You have plans for tonight?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, I do," the doctor said standing up.

The longhaired man looked at him with surprise. "You have plans for Christmas Eve? I didn´t know you had family."

"I don´t. But I have friends. They invited me to spend Christmas with them. So if you would excuse me?" He walked over to the open door to his office, making it obvious he
wanted the other man to go.

Maxwell took another drag off his cigarette before putting it out and throwing it in the waste bin. "You surprise me all the time, J." He shook his head and walked over to the door. He then stopped in front of the old doctor, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but deciding against it in the end. Shaking his head again, he crossed the threshhold and headed for the elevators.

"Mr. Maxwell," J called after him.

The other man stopped and turned around. "Yes?"

J´s eyes softened. "Merry Christmas."

Maxwell blinked and looked at him as if he didn´t understand a word he had said. Then he nodded. "Merry Christmas, doctor," he answered quietly and J had to wonder if he had been the only one who wished the boy Merry Christmas.

Maxwell walked down the corridor, playing with the tape. He thought about the Merry Christmas doctor J wished him. He had noone to spend the holidays with. His father and his brother were somewhere in Africa and even if they weren´t he wouldn´t spend the Christmas Eve with them. Suddenly he realized that he hadn´t had one happy Christmas Eve since his mother died almost twenty years ago. And since Heero hadn´t been his best friend anymore. He shook his head. Better not to think about that.

He stopped in front of the elevators and pushed the call button. The corridors were empty, all the scientists were at home with their families, probably eating dinner right
now. Maxwell shrugged. Well, at least he would get some work done.

The elevator door opened and he stepped in, pushing the button for the fifth sub-level. The cabin started to move up when suddenly it stopped and all the lights - even the
emergency light - went out.

"What the fuck!" he cursed. That was the last thing he needed right now. To spend the Christmas Eve not only alone but stuck in the elevator too.

He moved across the cabin to where he suspected the emergency phone was but before he could reach it the lights went on again. The cabin still didn´t move though.

"Good evening, Mr. Maxwell."

Hearing another voice in the previously empty cabin the longhaired man whipped around, the gun that was until now hidden in the holster on the small of his back in his hand.

"I don´t think you will need that," the other man in the cabin chuckled. He was of Japanese origin and was dressed all in black just like Maxwell.

"Heero?" the braided man asked with surprise. "What the fuck are you doing here? Oh, wait. It doesn´t matter. Hands up so that I can see them."

Heero laughed but raised his hands.

"Turn around. Hands on the wall and spread your legs," Maxwell ordered him.

Heero did as he was told, but when the other man stepped closer to him with and incredible speed he turned around, caught the hand with the gun and twisted it behind the other man´s back.

"Let me go!" Maxwell shouted.

Twisting the gun out of his hand, Heero pushed him away. Maxwell turned around, facing the man he hunted for the last couple of months. He watched him empty the gun and throw it on the ground.

"What do you want?" the braided man snarled.

Heero sighed. He was used to the animosity his ex-best-friend showed him, but it still hurt every time. He reached inside his black jacket and shook his head when the other man tensed. "Don´t worry. I don´t want to kill you. If I wanted to do it, I wouldn´t make it so complicated. I could just wait for you when you go for your morning run, every day at 6:30 am." Seeing Maxwell´s eyes widen at Heero´s knowledge of his schedule, he added: "6 miles, to the lake and back."

Maxwell´s eyes narrowed. "So, you came to gloat about how well informed you are?"

Heero frowned at the sarcasm that dripped from every word Maxwell said. He remembered the happy boy he once had been. Seeing the hardness he developed during the years in the care of his father, he ached for the little boy that used to love cold sweets and white bunnies.

"No. I came to give you this," he answered, pulling a small box from the inside pocket of his jacket.

Maxwell eyed the box suspiciously. "What is it?"

Heero rolled his eyes. "Don´t worry. It´s not a bomb. It´s a Christmas present."

Maxwell blinked, his eyes switching from Heero´s face to the box and back. After a few moments, he reluctantly took the offered box. Slowly, he opened it and gasped. "That´s... that´s..."

"The cross that belonged to your mother," Heero whispered.

Reverently, Maxwell took the glistening jewelry into his hand and stroked a finger down the diamond studded gold. He blinked again, trying to get rid of the sting he felt on the backside of his eyelids. "Where did you find it?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Heero smiled a little. "I followed a clue. Your father didn´t want to have anything of your mother´s in his home. He sold it to an antique dealer. It was damaged and the clasp was broken, so nobody wanted to buy it and he was reluctant to sell it. I managed to repair it though, and thought that you would like it."

Maxwell kept looking down at the small cross in his hand. His mother wore it on the day she died. They said she committed suicide but he didn´t believe it. His mother wouldn´t leave him alone. He asked his father about the cross. He remembered his mother telling him once that one day it would belong to him. But his father told him that it got lost after she died. He hadn´t believed that he would see it again.

He closed his hand around it tightly, and pressed it to his chest. He swallowed painfully and had to force his tears down. He wouldn´t fall apart now. Maybe later, when he was alone... But not right now.

"Why?" he asked finally, and looked up.

Heero shrugged. "I know how sad you were when it got lost. I thought it would make you happy."

The longhaired man blinked again. "Don´t think that it means that I won´t hunt you down, Heero." His voice was still hoarse, and try as he might, he couldn´t bring back the
sarcasm and hardness into it.

Heero smiled. "I know." He then leaned closer and before the other man could react, he kissed him on his lips gently. "Merry Christmas, Duo," he whispered. He gazed in his eyes for the longest of moments and deep, deep inside, hidden underneath the pain and loneliness he found the little boy he had kissed once in one of the Centre´s dark corridors. The little boy he still loved so much.

Duo froze, hearing his first name for the first time in years. He remembered the day Heero kissed him. It was his first kiss and the only kiss he had ever recieved that was
filled with love. He remembered how he whispered his name to him then. For everybody else in the Centre he was Mr. Maxwell even though he was eight years old. To Heero, he was Duo. He had never told his name to anybody after that, remaining hidden behind his Maxwell surname. Even his lovers called him Max.

It had been a long time since Duo felt so vulnerable. That´s why he didn´t even react when the lights went out and then back on again, lighting up the cabin that was once
again empty except for him. The elevator started to move again, and if it weren´t for the cross he clutched tightly to his chest, he wouldn´t have even believed that it wasn´t just a dream.

Duo smiled. It was such a rare thing to see. For the first time in years he felt important. There was someone out there in the world for whom he was important enough to walk into the lion´s den just to give him a Christmas present. Even though that someone was the prey he had to hunt down.

But not tonight.


The End