Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Wilderness ❯ Be a MAN, Damn it! ( Chapter 2 )

 

Wilderness

By Dentelle_Noir

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, duh. Don't you find this as redundant as I? I hope so.

 

Warning: Eventual yaoi. Man bashing.

 

NOTE: I'm giving Wilderness a bit of a re-haul and edit! Mostly from the middle on arethe larger changes, but the earlier chapters have more format and minor wording changes. Look for new chapters soon, though!

 

Summary: AU. 3x4. Stuck on a Wilderness vacation, Father `toughening him up', a deadly coincidence brings a forest ranger and the trouble following him, into their group. Quatre will have to prove to everyone just what the nancy-boy can do.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two: Be a Man, damn it.

 

His feet burned, his arms trembled, and sweat poured off Quatre's brow. It was hot, and when the wind blew it was cold! And it smelt all woodsy! His shoes were covered in mud and he was being eaten alive by mosquitoes, despite reeking of repellant and sunscreen! He was tried already...

 

And all he was doing was brining his luggage inside the lodge!

 

He was not going to survive two weeks of outdoors-y-ness-stuff!! He wanted to go home before he even got there!

 

Then he took a look up at his father, looking rugged in jeans (it was a shock to the boy his father even owned any) and a T-shirt, and cowboy boots, well, he had to reconsider.

 

To say they had never seen eye to eye was an understatement. Heck, Quatre would've been overjoyed if they could even agree over the weather. Not that he tried to argue, but his father always looked at him as if everything about him disgusted and disappointed him. But yet, he had asked him to join him on his vacation.

 

If he was willing to go half way to bridge the gap between them by at least trying to spend some time with his son, then the least Quatre could do was suck it up, and pretend he was enjoying it.

 

Dropping his suitcase down in the pile, he caught his breath and headed towards the conjugation of people, most looking very rustic and woodsy, the men all seeming burly and rugged and the woman looking friendly and robust. There were a few boys and girls his age, but they all looked like they belonged on the football squad or the other equally intimidating people in school that liked to beat him and his "drama brat" friends when he couldn't skip out. But, his father didn't know about that yet. He'd tell him... in a couple years when he would "look back and smile".

 

Yeah, right.

 

SMILING!

 

There was only one boy in the crown that wasn't broader than a barn, and that was an oriental boy with shining raven hair tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Quatre only glimpsed him, but he seemed very fair skinned and, dare he think it, handsome. He wore a thick fraying sweater that was some cross between gray and purple, as if it was blue at one time and washed with a red sock sometime along it's obviously long life. It had some logo on it at one time, but it was long since gone, suiting the stretched collar and palm covering cuffs. It seemed incredibly comfortable and looked very good on the youth.

 

Quatre again fixed his T-shirt the most evil glare he could. It was polyester, since the brochure made the water-retaining cotton sound incredibly evil, non small, since small was not a manly size, and non colorful, since black was the color men wore, you see. Why was he wearing clothes that hung off him, made his look sickly pale and caught in branches? Because his father picked it out, and he didn't want to upset the man by arguing any more than he had. He was insanely jealous of the other boy's comfort.

 

An older man wearing a T-shirt that seemed to fit him, Quatre thought bitterly, with the "Wilderness Adventures" logo splayed across the front called the group to order. He introduced himself as their "Training guide" since their actual guide, whom they would meet in three days, was down at the lodge attending to important matters. And Otto, that was his name, would be supervising their safety and warm up training as well as "setting them on the track to Fun for the Whole Family!" Quatre swore he spoke in capitals!

 

Trying to find his father to begin said family fun, he found him already engaged in business talk with the older Chinese man whom he had bee lined for when they arrived. He was a potential business partner for his father... and from the looks of the group was more than likely the father of the Chinese boy he had spied earlier. Maybe then the boy knew exactly what it felt like to be ignored by his father.

 

Then the boy walked over, nodded to Quatre father and just stood waiting, not saying a word. Within seconds, the Chinese man gave a quick dismissal and began speaking with the boy amicably. Perhaps he didn't know after all.

 

Quatre began to really want to go home now.

 

 

Training began at the greeting house; that was what they called the large lodge-type place they had parked in. And they stayed in nice indoor plumed, warm bed, and wooden floored bunkhouses. And they didn't have to share! It was just Quatre and his father in his. That was some exciting company. Really.

 

And then there was the actual training.

 

Reflecting back positively, Quatre had to say that training was very... educational.

 

The first day after a little safety talk, they made him climb up a wall filled with brightly colored rocks and holds. His belayer, the dude holding the rope that kept him from falling on his ass, kept going with his well rehearsed "You can do it".

 

That's when he learned his first lesson: No. He couldn't.

 

The second day they did some canoeing to get them ready for paddling the rapids they would be facing for most of the trip. Second lesson: The water was really, really cold. And the bottom was slimy. He got to wear a kid sized life jacket after that. Colored pink. His father was thrilled. Really.

 

The next day seemed much better, his father had hardly spoken to him, but they were going on a nice nature hike. He really did find it soothing. Across the road he saw a cute little squirrel, eyes wide and Disney like, little tail twitching adorably as he watched Quatre from the side of the trail. Then he learned: Foxes ate squirrels.

 

 

The eleven more to go day (he had began to count backwards now) was turning out much, much better. They had "graduated" training and were on their way to the main lodge further down the canyon.

 

They were riding horseback, something Quatre had been doing since he was young enough to walk. So for once since this whole hell vacation began, he didn't feel like the laughing stock of the entire group. He was one of the very few of the twelve that weren't lagging painfully behind, bouncing all over hells half acres and cursing to the horses. People were actually watching how HE did something! Take that Dad!

 

Now all he needed with his luck was some rabid bunny rabbit to run out in front of horse, spook it and send him over the ledge and down into the gorge.

 

But they made it to the halfway point, the lunch stop, and nothing had happened yet. He was even lucky enough for Otto, their guide, to demonstrate how to unsaddle the horses with his horse so he didn't have to do it himself.

 

A shiny red jeep pulled into the clearing from a road and out came a man wearing a similar 'Wilderness adventures' T-shirt and filled plates with fried chicken and gave everyone a nice cool bottle of water.

 

Quatre looked up to the heavens and saw nothing but blue skies and puffy white clouds sliding over the expanse from the cool comfortable breeze. This was going to be a good day. No, it was going to be a great day just to make up for the hell the last three days had been for him. Nothing was going to spoil it.

 

As he thought that, face soaking up the sunshine with a smile, he noticed his father walking towards him, plate in hand, then took the spot on the log next to him.

 

Add one more happy mark, his father was finally paying attention to him!

 

Omar waited after he plopped down beside his son, and he ate silently. The boy was still an impossible let down after three days. He couldn't get further than a foot on the climbing wall, he had fallen in the lake, he lost all his bait under suspicious circumstances, and then bawled for the last half of the nature hike. He needed to make his intensions clear.

 

"Quatre," he started, "do you know why I brought you along with me on this trip?"

 

Quatre bit his lip nervously, and readied himself. Time to breach the gap between father and son. It was just coincidence he met a potential business partner there. He was just about to meet him halfway, his mouth about to formulate the words, when his father beat him to it.

 

"I brought you here to toughen you up. You're a man, damn it. It's time you started acting like one. No son of mine is going to be a cry baby momma's boy." Omar said strongly.

 

Good day gone.

 

"You need to be a real man! Look at Wufei, Chang's boy," at that he pointed to the Chinese boy who was currently coming down from the huge tree he had just climbed to get a view, still wearing the comfortable sweater, but showing navy blue underneath. "He won the cannoning race, scouted the hike, and was the first to get to the top of the wall in less than two minutes. Look at him. He's a man. A real man. That is what you should be like."

 

Quatre couldn't even answer, his lips too busy surprising sobs to open.

 

Omar looked at the blonde boy he had fathered and felt anger rising. The wuss looked ready to cry. What was he expecting, some sort of "I love you for who you are, son." heartfelt moment? He ground his teeth to stop himself from screaming loud enough the entire group heard, he'd already felt enough of an idiot on this trip due to his slip shot son. "You should try to be friends with Wufei, maybe you'll learn something." He slid out cruelly, then abruptly stood, emptying his barely touched chicken into the waste basket. Two more starving kids in Africa bit the dust.

 

Quatre tried to stop his lip from trembling, he was right. He was a crybaby momma's boy, even though he never met his mother. It didn't matter. Even if he had met her, it wouldn't matter. She'd probably be disappointed in him too!

 

Unable to hold back the tears and trying to conserve a little bit of his pride so his father wasn't even more disappointed, he quickly made his way into the dense tree cover.

 

Letting the tears flow, but not daring a sob, he followed the trail taken by many tourists before. He found himself on a rounded boulder overlooking a deep colorful valley, the trees swaying and birds flying gracefully over.

 

Flopping down on the rock, he tried to distract himself with the view. But that didn't work, all he could hear was his father resounding through his head telling him how much of a disappointing failure of a son he was. Why didn't he just say he wished he had never been born and be done with it. Better yet, why didn't he just disown his little wretch of a child! His knees curled over his stomach like they always did when he was hurting and his arms wrapped around them, holding them close and cradling his head between them, letting his tears wet his jeans and thighs muffle his sobs.

 

Thankfully they were allowed a long lunch break and Quatre was able to pull himself together by the time they were getting ready to leave.

 

But he just wanted to go home.