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GW - Newtypes - Chapter 3 - last bit
Oh hell, I think I'll just call that fic Newtypes. At least it's simple and informative. >__>
No clue whether the emotional bits are really effective, or if Heero comes across right -- IE ignoring his emotions because he has things to do, not "not having emotions at all unless it's convenient." I feel like I'm forgetting how. ~__~;
First
Previous
Heero left the medical machines and the one elevator they needed alone; but all the rest he turned off, gates stuck open, lights off, security cameras dead with their memories wiped clean. The respirator and the cardiac and brainwaves monitors were attached to the bed and ran on a small generator, and all her prescription drugs rested in a convenient basket with her name on it; wheeling her to the waiting elevator was the easiest thing in the world.
It was so dark in the corridors that everyone else stuck to the walls. Heero just rushed the bed through, working on his memory of the hospital layout. Wufei worked with him in almost perfect synch to make the turns, using his weight to redirect their momentum whenever Heero pulled right or left. They clipped a couple of orderlies, but those yelled loud enough that Heero didn't have to worry he'd broken anyone's neck.
No one stopped them. But when they reached the waiting elevator, the little emergency lights lining the inside were much closer than he'd anticipated.
"Shit--" Wufei grabbed the foot of the bed and threw his whole body back, heels skidding on the linoleum. Heero couldn't do the same; he was still busy controlling the spin to make sure the edge of the elevator door didn't broadside them.
It was going to hurt a bit.
Heero put his feet on a bar over the wheels, turned his back on the approaching wall, and took the impact against the elevator's bottom panel. The elevator trembled, metal banging loudly.
"Yuy!" Wufei pulled the bed back, freeing him.
Heero tried not to breathe in too fast; he'd done his best to dampen the shock, but he'd still been caught in the ribs by a metal edge and the wind had been briefly knocked out of him. At least it hadn't broken anything. Done in by a bed, that would look nice on his rap sheet. "--'m fine. Close the door."
Wufei slammed his hand on the button, quickly looked over Meiran's body to make sure it hadn't been disturbed, and then stared hard at Heero over the length of the bed. He didn't call Heero an idiot, and Heero didn't have to answer that they'd needed some way to soften the impact, now hadn't they. The pain would go away in a minute anyway.
"Status?"
Heero's heel had slipped over the bar, and his ankle ached slightly, but he couldn't afford to have his mobility reduced. When he put weight on it, it held on without protesting too much; it would be good enough. "... Acceptable."
Wufei snorted, and might have said more, but a lock of hair fell across Meiran's face and his attention was pulled back to her in the second. Heero looked away and slipped past Wufei so he'd be the first to come out when the door opened.
"Yuy..."
Heero didn't look at him; but his peripheral vision saw him anyway, dark head bowed over the unmoving body. "Hm?"
"You could still leave," Wufei said, without looking at him. "Tell people you weren't involved."
Heero snorted, making Wufei look up and frown at him. "No, I couldn't."
And while Wufei was still looking straight at him, he reached out and plucked out his hair band. Wufei blinked, a hand rising to his freed hair.
"Hey --"
"You look less distinctive like that," Heero lied.
The elevator pinged and came to a stop. Heero slipped the hair band around his wrist like a bracelet and stepped out.
The elevator opened into a small lobby of sorts, but only the emergency lights were on. It was dark enough that the nurse didn't have enough light to see Heero's face in detail when he walked up to her and pressed stolen chloroform-soaked cloth against her face.
He dropped his backpack on Meiran's lap. "Find a big car," he said to Wufei, and walked straight out of the lobby. There weren't many people there, maybe just a couple of orderlies and a family getting ready to leave. He could see security guards out by the gate, gesturing wildly at each other as they argued about the security barrier, stuck in the up position. They hadn't realized it was sabotage yet; good. Heero didn't glance back at Wufei as he walked through the rows of cars, looking for an appropriate target.
He slipped a smoke bomb under a car and kept walking, casual. A few rows later, he crouched to fix shoelaces he didn't have and stole two license plates, yanking them free hard enough that the screws were sent flying. Twenty seconds left on the bomb. He mussed his hair, ditched the scrubs in a corner, and started toward the exit.
A big minivan started pacing him less than two meters away from the gate and the bickering rent-a-cops. Heero opened the door and climbed inside; he was still in the process of sitting down when the bomb exploded and car alarms started howling.
There was swearing, people running away and out, smoke filling the parking lot; the cops raced in to help people evacuate.
Wufei calmly stepped on the gas pedal and melted into the traffic.
"Find somewhere to park," Heero said as he tugged the corner of the plates out of his shirt. Wufei glanced at them and nodded tersely. He didn't say a word.
Heero had never known Wufei to be extremely talkative, especially not on missions, but there was usually a different quality to his mission quiet, a kind of hunting-cat stillness that was nothing but patience and readiness. Heero found that the white-knuckled grip Wufei had on the wheel and the sharp glances he cut everything that moved on the street made all the difference.
He glanced behind him, in the dim interior of darkened windows. The car must belong to an education center, he thought, or maybe a huge family. Nothing else would have necessitated three rows of seats, or had their floor littered with candy wrappers and toys. Wheels tucked in, Meiran's hospital bed fit neatly over the folded seats, though she couldn't have sat up without knocking her head on the roof. She wasn't going to sit up anyway; the point was moot.
They stopped on someone's tree-lined driveway and Heero screwed the stolen plates on; then he went up to the driver's door and looked soberly up at Wufei.
"I'll drive. You get in the back."
"I can drive, Yuy," Wufei snapped with surprising anger.
It wasn't really Heero Wufei was lashing out at, he knew that. He was wounded, and he didn't want anyone to come close. He made Heero want to reach out and -- he didn't know, he'd never really had to comfort anyone who was anything like Wufei before. It had been -- not easy, but easier with Relena, when she came back home wearing the world on her shoulders, knowing she could never do enough; she'd been the one who came to him, who asked 'please just let me hold you' and clung when he held her back.
She'd been the one who got back up once he'd held her enough, and smiled and said things about setbacks not being failures. He'd never had to find the words.
Friends would only accept different kinds of help anyway, but there too Heero was out of his depth. Trowa didn't require more than someone to sit with him, almost shoulder to shoulder, for him to sigh, relax, and say "thank you." Dietrik needed even less, a dry comment to make him laugh despite himself, and there he was all better again. Neither of those strategies would work on Wufei -- not now.
"I know you can drive," he said simply, and kept waiting.
Wufei would never let Heero hold onto him, never listen when Heero said 'break down if you want; I'll put you back together.' Heero hadn't even known he wanted a chance to say it.
They looked at each other for a few moments too long; Wufei looked away first, and for a too long second Heero didn't know if he just wanted space more than to save his pride right now, or if he'd seen something he should have on Heero's face.
"... Fine." Wufei unbuckled his seatbelt and slipped between the seats.
Heero climbed into the driver's seat and drove off, trying not to watch as his partner slipped into the narrows space between the bed and the window and took his place at the unconscious young woman's side.
The passenger windows had already been darkened as much as possible, but Heero didn't feel like dealing with the rest of the world, so he dimmed the rest.
By now the hospital must be in the process of reversing his hack; he hadn't made it difficult on purpose, unwilling to mess with the place for a longer time than strictly necessary. The security camera feeds were wiped clean, but the Preventer agent who'd seen them would be asked if she'd seen anything suspicious, and if they were unlucky she would think to mention two off-duty agents. Hopefully not, but they couldn't count on it. He didn't drive fast, staying slightly under the speed limit, but he didn't waste time either.
When he checked the time he realized only twenty minutes had gone past between their arrival to the hospital and their escape.
"How are her vitals?"
"The same," Wufei said, like he didn't know whether that was good or awful.
Heero wasn't sure either. If Chang Meiran died... He had no doubt they would be tried for murder, and even with attenuating circumstances it would be a mess. And then there was the mysterious plot Une had been trying to protect them from.
If Meiran didn't die... then what would they do with her? She needed long-term care and the places ready and willing to give it weren't exactly hard to track down, most of the time; a brand new comatose patient would be conspicuous. An underground hospital, maybe, but those were disreputable enough, low on funds, and possibly staffed with people Heero wouldn't entrust a dog to. Sweeper clinic-ship? Most of Heero and Wufei's connections to them had come through Duo, and Heero didn't like depending on Maxwell's contacts when they didn't have a clue what Duo himself was up to. But it might be their best bet anyway...
He almost asked Wufei for input, but when he glanced back through the mirror he saw a bowed head, black hair falling in loose locks on the sleeping woman's face, and all the grief in the world in the lines of his shoulders.
Wufei wasn't going to be much help planning their escape. Not yet.
Heero kept on driving, silent.
"... We should switch cars," Wufei said, startling Heero.
His voice was raspy; made Heero think he was hearing too much, more than Wufei would ever choose to show, a glimpse into his feelings that didn't exist because of Heero at all. It wasn't a gift, an opening; it was accidental voyeurism.
He started looking for a parking place, locking it away.
He found one behind a shed, beside a small truck. The attached house looked empty. It was a simple matter to park on the driveway, disable the security system and break in. He helped Wufei get the bed out of the minivan and rolled it to the back of the truck. Breaking into the truck was similarly easy; he'd had so much training for that it was simple as breathing; he didn't even need to watch his hands. he watched them anyway.
They emptied the back of the truck, put the bed inside, and drove off again. Meiran didn't stir; her vitals didn't change.
"Find somewhere to park."
If Heero had thought he was hearing too much, things that weren't for him to hear, that was nothing compared to now. There was a sort of dead finality in Wufei's voice, dull and flat and almost hopeless.
Almost. He was going to keep hoping until she flatlined. After that... Heero didn't know. But it would be better if they were parked.
"Wufei..."
"There's no use letting it last, is there?" he said, not really like a question. "No use waiting."
Heero slipped over the seats and stood in the narrow space at the head of the bed. 'I could do it instead', he wanted to say, and didn't even know where the foolish impulse was coming from. Like Wufei would allow anyone to offer him such a stupid, useless crutch, such fake comfort. 'I didn't kill her in the end'-- hah. It wouldn't change a thing. That wasn't the main source of pain by ten miles.
Wufei closed his eyes, briefly, gathering himself, and then he forced them wide open and watched his wife's face as he cut off the respirator.
Stillness, lungs emptying and not filling again. Oxygen deprivation usually left irreparable damage as early as the third minute or sometimes earlier; though that only mattered if the damage that kept her unconscious was fixable in the first place. Heero counted in his head, two minutes and fifty seconds, two minutes. Wufei was caressing her face, just a brush of fingertips, infinitely tender. One minute, thirty seconds, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven. Only twenty-five seconds left before irreparable brain damage, he thought, twenty-two, twenty-one, but she's already, eighteen, seventeen, already, she's not breathing, fourteen, she was fourteen --
She'd been fourteen when she died, and Wufei was grieving all over again except this time it would be worse, and none of it was remotely fair.
He leaned over the bed and took the girl's other hand, limp and cool like a dead thing, and squeezed. Breathe, damn it. Eleven. Ten. Breathe. Eight. Breathe. Six. Breathe, because Wufei might stop with you, breathe already --
-- Heero leaned on the panel at his back, graceless, heavy. Wufei didn't notice. Fascinated, he watched as a few strands of his hanging hair shivered softly.
Three, two, one, and Heero was counting in negatives before he realized it was useless now.
"...She's..."
Wufei choked on the words like he couldn't wrap his mind around them, and it hurt in Heero's chest like an echo, but Heero could have taken that kind of pain a hundred times over without saying a word. He shook the dizziness off and reached for her; Wufei was still too frozen to do it. Her ribs didn't move, but when Heero placed a hand on her abdomen, he felt it expand minutely under his hand.
"She's breathing," Heero confirmed quietly, and counted once again, to time her. One minute went by, and then two. In-out, in-and-out and out, in-in-out. In and out. In and out. "... Steady now."
"She's breathing," Wufei repeated, and then he started to laugh.
Then Heero was at his side, and his arms were around him, and Wufei's arm were clinging right back, and he wasn't too sure how that had happened so fast. Wufei's body shook, crazed chuckles edged with pain and devastating relief.
"She's breathing. She's breathing."
"Don't cry now!" Heero blurted out past the knot lodged in his own throat. "Just don't -- your eyes, people will remember if it shows."
"I'm not crying," Wufei snarled, head still bowed against Heero's chest. "I know it doesn't mean anything -- just autonomic functions, she could stop anytime; it doesn't mean anything."
Heero would have believing him more if his voice hadn't been so thick, almost burbly. "Yeah," he said quietly, and clenched his fingers into a fist to stop himself from slipping them in Wufei's hair.
Meiran kept laying there, unmoving, brainwaves unchanged.
"It's not over yet," Wufei said, straightening up slowly. Heero let his arms fall at his sides. "We need to get her out of here. If they catch up, she won't be safe."
Heero nodded, in agreement. A known Newtype, from such a panic-inducing affair, utterly unable to even call for help? It would only take a prejudiced coward ten minutes and a pillow.
"They'll track this truck before long, and it would be too conspicuous to take the train with a huge box," Wufei muttered, a hand rubbing Meiran's limp arm gently. "We need a better way..."
Heero looked down her body, frowning thoughtfully. She didn't need the oxygen mask anymore, though it would be a good idea to keep it around just in case; but the bed was unnecessary. "About that... I might have an idea."
Heh. If it failed, it would fail spectacularly. At least Wufei had started including him in his 'we's again.
Next.
No clue whether the emotional bits are really effective, or if Heero comes across right -- IE ignoring his emotions because he has things to do, not "not having emotions at all unless it's convenient." I feel like I'm forgetting how. ~__~;
First
Previous
Heero left the medical machines and the one elevator they needed alone; but all the rest he turned off, gates stuck open, lights off, security cameras dead with their memories wiped clean. The respirator and the cardiac and brainwaves monitors were attached to the bed and ran on a small generator, and all her prescription drugs rested in a convenient basket with her name on it; wheeling her to the waiting elevator was the easiest thing in the world.
It was so dark in the corridors that everyone else stuck to the walls. Heero just rushed the bed through, working on his memory of the hospital layout. Wufei worked with him in almost perfect synch to make the turns, using his weight to redirect their momentum whenever Heero pulled right or left. They clipped a couple of orderlies, but those yelled loud enough that Heero didn't have to worry he'd broken anyone's neck.
No one stopped them. But when they reached the waiting elevator, the little emergency lights lining the inside were much closer than he'd anticipated.
"Shit--" Wufei grabbed the foot of the bed and threw his whole body back, heels skidding on the linoleum. Heero couldn't do the same; he was still busy controlling the spin to make sure the edge of the elevator door didn't broadside them.
It was going to hurt a bit.
Heero put his feet on a bar over the wheels, turned his back on the approaching wall, and took the impact against the elevator's bottom panel. The elevator trembled, metal banging loudly.
"Yuy!" Wufei pulled the bed back, freeing him.
Heero tried not to breathe in too fast; he'd done his best to dampen the shock, but he'd still been caught in the ribs by a metal edge and the wind had been briefly knocked out of him. At least it hadn't broken anything. Done in by a bed, that would look nice on his rap sheet. "--'m fine. Close the door."
Wufei slammed his hand on the button, quickly looked over Meiran's body to make sure it hadn't been disturbed, and then stared hard at Heero over the length of the bed. He didn't call Heero an idiot, and Heero didn't have to answer that they'd needed some way to soften the impact, now hadn't they. The pain would go away in a minute anyway.
"Status?"
Heero's heel had slipped over the bar, and his ankle ached slightly, but he couldn't afford to have his mobility reduced. When he put weight on it, it held on without protesting too much; it would be good enough. "... Acceptable."
Wufei snorted, and might have said more, but a lock of hair fell across Meiran's face and his attention was pulled back to her in the second. Heero looked away and slipped past Wufei so he'd be the first to come out when the door opened.
"Yuy..."
Heero didn't look at him; but his peripheral vision saw him anyway, dark head bowed over the unmoving body. "Hm?"
"You could still leave," Wufei said, without looking at him. "Tell people you weren't involved."
Heero snorted, making Wufei look up and frown at him. "No, I couldn't."
And while Wufei was still looking straight at him, he reached out and plucked out his hair band. Wufei blinked, a hand rising to his freed hair.
"Hey --"
"You look less distinctive like that," Heero lied.
The elevator pinged and came to a stop. Heero slipped the hair band around his wrist like a bracelet and stepped out.
The elevator opened into a small lobby of sorts, but only the emergency lights were on. It was dark enough that the nurse didn't have enough light to see Heero's face in detail when he walked up to her and pressed stolen chloroform-soaked cloth against her face.
He dropped his backpack on Meiran's lap. "Find a big car," he said to Wufei, and walked straight out of the lobby. There weren't many people there, maybe just a couple of orderlies and a family getting ready to leave. He could see security guards out by the gate, gesturing wildly at each other as they argued about the security barrier, stuck in the up position. They hadn't realized it was sabotage yet; good. Heero didn't glance back at Wufei as he walked through the rows of cars, looking for an appropriate target.
He slipped a smoke bomb under a car and kept walking, casual. A few rows later, he crouched to fix shoelaces he didn't have and stole two license plates, yanking them free hard enough that the screws were sent flying. Twenty seconds left on the bomb. He mussed his hair, ditched the scrubs in a corner, and started toward the exit.
A big minivan started pacing him less than two meters away from the gate and the bickering rent-a-cops. Heero opened the door and climbed inside; he was still in the process of sitting down when the bomb exploded and car alarms started howling.
There was swearing, people running away and out, smoke filling the parking lot; the cops raced in to help people evacuate.
Wufei calmly stepped on the gas pedal and melted into the traffic.
"Find somewhere to park," Heero said as he tugged the corner of the plates out of his shirt. Wufei glanced at them and nodded tersely. He didn't say a word.
Heero had never known Wufei to be extremely talkative, especially not on missions, but there was usually a different quality to his mission quiet, a kind of hunting-cat stillness that was nothing but patience and readiness. Heero found that the white-knuckled grip Wufei had on the wheel and the sharp glances he cut everything that moved on the street made all the difference.
He glanced behind him, in the dim interior of darkened windows. The car must belong to an education center, he thought, or maybe a huge family. Nothing else would have necessitated three rows of seats, or had their floor littered with candy wrappers and toys. Wheels tucked in, Meiran's hospital bed fit neatly over the folded seats, though she couldn't have sat up without knocking her head on the roof. She wasn't going to sit up anyway; the point was moot.
They stopped on someone's tree-lined driveway and Heero screwed the stolen plates on; then he went up to the driver's door and looked soberly up at Wufei.
"I'll drive. You get in the back."
"I can drive, Yuy," Wufei snapped with surprising anger.
It wasn't really Heero Wufei was lashing out at, he knew that. He was wounded, and he didn't want anyone to come close. He made Heero want to reach out and -- he didn't know, he'd never really had to comfort anyone who was anything like Wufei before. It had been -- not easy, but easier with Relena, when she came back home wearing the world on her shoulders, knowing she could never do enough; she'd been the one who came to him, who asked 'please just let me hold you' and clung when he held her back.
She'd been the one who got back up once he'd held her enough, and smiled and said things about setbacks not being failures. He'd never had to find the words.
Friends would only accept different kinds of help anyway, but there too Heero was out of his depth. Trowa didn't require more than someone to sit with him, almost shoulder to shoulder, for him to sigh, relax, and say "thank you." Dietrik needed even less, a dry comment to make him laugh despite himself, and there he was all better again. Neither of those strategies would work on Wufei -- not now.
"I know you can drive," he said simply, and kept waiting.
Wufei would never let Heero hold onto him, never listen when Heero said 'break down if you want; I'll put you back together.' Heero hadn't even known he wanted a chance to say it.
They looked at each other for a few moments too long; Wufei looked away first, and for a too long second Heero didn't know if he just wanted space more than to save his pride right now, or if he'd seen something he should have on Heero's face.
"... Fine." Wufei unbuckled his seatbelt and slipped between the seats.
Heero climbed into the driver's seat and drove off, trying not to watch as his partner slipped into the narrows space between the bed and the window and took his place at the unconscious young woman's side.
The passenger windows had already been darkened as much as possible, but Heero didn't feel like dealing with the rest of the world, so he dimmed the rest.
By now the hospital must be in the process of reversing his hack; he hadn't made it difficult on purpose, unwilling to mess with the place for a longer time than strictly necessary. The security camera feeds were wiped clean, but the Preventer agent who'd seen them would be asked if she'd seen anything suspicious, and if they were unlucky she would think to mention two off-duty agents. Hopefully not, but they couldn't count on it. He didn't drive fast, staying slightly under the speed limit, but he didn't waste time either.
When he checked the time he realized only twenty minutes had gone past between their arrival to the hospital and their escape.
"How are her vitals?"
"The same," Wufei said, like he didn't know whether that was good or awful.
Heero wasn't sure either. If Chang Meiran died... He had no doubt they would be tried for murder, and even with attenuating circumstances it would be a mess. And then there was the mysterious plot Une had been trying to protect them from.
If Meiran didn't die... then what would they do with her? She needed long-term care and the places ready and willing to give it weren't exactly hard to track down, most of the time; a brand new comatose patient would be conspicuous. An underground hospital, maybe, but those were disreputable enough, low on funds, and possibly staffed with people Heero wouldn't entrust a dog to. Sweeper clinic-ship? Most of Heero and Wufei's connections to them had come through Duo, and Heero didn't like depending on Maxwell's contacts when they didn't have a clue what Duo himself was up to. But it might be their best bet anyway...
He almost asked Wufei for input, but when he glanced back through the mirror he saw a bowed head, black hair falling in loose locks on the sleeping woman's face, and all the grief in the world in the lines of his shoulders.
Wufei wasn't going to be much help planning their escape. Not yet.
Heero kept on driving, silent.
"... We should switch cars," Wufei said, startling Heero.
His voice was raspy; made Heero think he was hearing too much, more than Wufei would ever choose to show, a glimpse into his feelings that didn't exist because of Heero at all. It wasn't a gift, an opening; it was accidental voyeurism.
He started looking for a parking place, locking it away.
He found one behind a shed, beside a small truck. The attached house looked empty. It was a simple matter to park on the driveway, disable the security system and break in. He helped Wufei get the bed out of the minivan and rolled it to the back of the truck. Breaking into the truck was similarly easy; he'd had so much training for that it was simple as breathing; he didn't even need to watch his hands. he watched them anyway.
They emptied the back of the truck, put the bed inside, and drove off again. Meiran didn't stir; her vitals didn't change.
"Find somewhere to park."
If Heero had thought he was hearing too much, things that weren't for him to hear, that was nothing compared to now. There was a sort of dead finality in Wufei's voice, dull and flat and almost hopeless.
Almost. He was going to keep hoping until she flatlined. After that... Heero didn't know. But it would be better if they were parked.
"Wufei..."
"There's no use letting it last, is there?" he said, not really like a question. "No use waiting."
Heero slipped over the seats and stood in the narrow space at the head of the bed. 'I could do it instead', he wanted to say, and didn't even know where the foolish impulse was coming from. Like Wufei would allow anyone to offer him such a stupid, useless crutch, such fake comfort. 'I didn't kill her in the end'-- hah. It wouldn't change a thing. That wasn't the main source of pain by ten miles.
Wufei closed his eyes, briefly, gathering himself, and then he forced them wide open and watched his wife's face as he cut off the respirator.
Stillness, lungs emptying and not filling again. Oxygen deprivation usually left irreparable damage as early as the third minute or sometimes earlier; though that only mattered if the damage that kept her unconscious was fixable in the first place. Heero counted in his head, two minutes and fifty seconds, two minutes. Wufei was caressing her face, just a brush of fingertips, infinitely tender. One minute, thirty seconds, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven. Only twenty-five seconds left before irreparable brain damage, he thought, twenty-two, twenty-one, but she's already, eighteen, seventeen, already, she's not breathing, fourteen, she was fourteen --
She'd been fourteen when she died, and Wufei was grieving all over again except this time it would be worse, and none of it was remotely fair.
He leaned over the bed and took the girl's other hand, limp and cool like a dead thing, and squeezed. Breathe, damn it. Eleven. Ten. Breathe. Eight. Breathe. Six. Breathe, because Wufei might stop with you, breathe already --
-- Heero leaned on the panel at his back, graceless, heavy. Wufei didn't notice. Fascinated, he watched as a few strands of his hanging hair shivered softly.
Three, two, one, and Heero was counting in negatives before he realized it was useless now.
"...She's..."
Wufei choked on the words like he couldn't wrap his mind around them, and it hurt in Heero's chest like an echo, but Heero could have taken that kind of pain a hundred times over without saying a word. He shook the dizziness off and reached for her; Wufei was still too frozen to do it. Her ribs didn't move, but when Heero placed a hand on her abdomen, he felt it expand minutely under his hand.
"She's breathing," Heero confirmed quietly, and counted once again, to time her. One minute went by, and then two. In-out, in-and-out and out, in-in-out. In and out. In and out. "... Steady now."
"She's breathing," Wufei repeated, and then he started to laugh.
Then Heero was at his side, and his arms were around him, and Wufei's arm were clinging right back, and he wasn't too sure how that had happened so fast. Wufei's body shook, crazed chuckles edged with pain and devastating relief.
"She's breathing. She's breathing."
"Don't cry now!" Heero blurted out past the knot lodged in his own throat. "Just don't -- your eyes, people will remember if it shows."
"I'm not crying," Wufei snarled, head still bowed against Heero's chest. "I know it doesn't mean anything -- just autonomic functions, she could stop anytime; it doesn't mean anything."
Heero would have believing him more if his voice hadn't been so thick, almost burbly. "Yeah," he said quietly, and clenched his fingers into a fist to stop himself from slipping them in Wufei's hair.
Meiran kept laying there, unmoving, brainwaves unchanged.
"It's not over yet," Wufei said, straightening up slowly. Heero let his arms fall at his sides. "We need to get her out of here. If they catch up, she won't be safe."
Heero nodded, in agreement. A known Newtype, from such a panic-inducing affair, utterly unable to even call for help? It would only take a prejudiced coward ten minutes and a pillow.
"They'll track this truck before long, and it would be too conspicuous to take the train with a huge box," Wufei muttered, a hand rubbing Meiran's limp arm gently. "We need a better way..."
Heero looked down her body, frowning thoughtfully. She didn't need the oxygen mask anymore, though it would be a good idea to keep it around just in case; but the bed was unnecessary. "About that... I might have an idea."
Heh. If it failed, it would fail spectacularly. At least Wufei had started including him in his 'we's again.
Next.
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I think your Heero is a bit stiffer than what I'm used to, but it's still acceptable--interpretation and whatnot
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It was more a general kind of thing? Though if you're coming from old-school fandom, wow, your Heero is so full of emotion! o.o
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I really need to rewatch the show, but all those parts without Gboys are so tedious. XDD
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What a wonderfully complicated mess you've made! ^^;
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Huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu. It's about to get a little messier, emotionally speaking.
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Should be believed.
*wibble* Just keep breathing Meiran!
Also, I liked how Heero refered to Duo as 'Maxwell'. I'm not quite sure why, but it just seems like he's trying to mentally distance himself, or some such.
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Ahh, Meiran. >333
Hee. I tend to make them use last names when they're all "back off and get out of my emotional space, i'm a rarr!he-man." So yay it comes across~ *happydance*
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It reads like Heero is giving whatever he can to Wufei - he doesn't really know what is appropriate or what Wufei would accept, but Heero wants to give it anyway.
I'm seeing any stiffness as hesitation, Heero not wanting to offend or upset Wufei (ha, secretly likes him and can't let on!), but not really knowing the 'right' thing to do.
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thank you for the comment!
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As for Relena, I like her (i just have no clue what she could do in this plot at the moment.) Her and Heero used to be involved and they still love each other very much, and Heero would still drop everything to help her in a heartbeat; they just kind of realized that whether or not they had sex or they saw each other often their relationship and interaction stayed exactly the same, so since their schedules conflicted too much they called that part off. XD; I like Trowa and Quatre well enough too, I just... have zero plot hooks for them.
Aha, that's right, he wasn't there in the first version of chapter, um, was it one or two... I rewrote a scene so it would be Heero POV instead and we meet a few of Heero's coworkers. Dietrik is a lunch buddy and fellow geek who's rather easygoing and doesn't mind Heero's weirdnesses too much, so they're kind of friends. They don't talk about deep things, but, well. They're both geeks. XD He's not very important, but Heero doesn't socialize with many people outside of the people he knew in the war, so he stands out a bit.
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I figure Heero's 'friends' are pretty much limited to the other Pilots, Relena and possibly a few preventers. He's trying though, bless his socialy retarded heart. You've ridden the line with Heero, he's gotten better, but you can't undo an entire childhood of training in just a few years.
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Quatre is definitely a newtype, but all the same, at the moment he doesn't really matter. The plot is centered around Meiran for now, and whatever it is Duo is doing, not the cause of newtypes in general. It's not impossible that they'd come more into focus in the third part of the fic, but I haven't defined anything for them yet.
Heero has made a few friendly acquaintances during his travels, but it's more like he sits down, drinks a soda, and nods at random while listening to them talk. XDDD He's not good at socializing with normal people when the discussion isn't about huge issues like fighting for survival, total pacifism, of computers. He's good at discussing stuff rationally, but shooting the breeze... XD
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Quatra can be fun, but he typically has to go nuts before it’s completely fun. He loosened up a lot by the end, I’ll look forward to whatever part he plays. What about Hilde? I assume she’s still where ever Duo happens to be at this particular moment. I need to buy this show, it’s been so long since I’ve seen my G-Boys.
Sits there, grunts and hummms a few times. *has this funny image in her head of people going to Relena for advice on how to deal with Heero* “No, No, when he Hummms it means he’s paying attention. Trust me, if he wasn’t interested he’d just leave. Do you know how long it took me to get him to say simply yes or no about things”
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1. There weren't much people there, maybe just a couple of orderlies and a family getting ready to leave. Should be 'many.'
Mini grammar lesson of the day! When you're talking about something that's made up of discrete, indivisible items, like a group of people, you use many; much is for divisible things like flour or water or time. ('Fewer' and 'less' work on the same principle -- fewer witnesses, less time -- but that distinction is fading. The difference between 'many' and 'much,' however, still matters.)
2. Wufei looked away first, and for a too long second Heero didn't know if he just wanted space more than to save his pride right now, of if he'd seen something he should have on Heero's face. Should be 'or.'
This story continues to be fascinating, and I really love the subtle way you do characterization.
Reposted because I cannot spell today. *headdesk*
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Thanks for the help! *edit edit* Glad you like it. ^__^
XD; ♥♥♥
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