Disclaimer: GW isn’t mine (though I really want to take Wuffie…) It’s owned by richer, happier people of whom I beg not to sue.
C&C? Please!!
From Forever to Forever
Part Nine: To Honor
October 23rd, A.C. 207—WuFei Chang—10:52 a.m.
"WuFei," Lady Une leans on my desk, her eyes boring into mine. "You’re a good soldier. You’re the most observant man I’ve ever met. This report makes no sense to me, and I know it’s because you’ve left out vital information. This was the best team the Preventors ever had—I want to know why two of my men are in the hospital with bullet wounds."
I scowl. "An enemy got by and managed to get a shot at Trowa. Quatre stopped to help Trowa escape, and made himself an easy target. It’s just as I wrote."
She stands up straight, dropping my mission report on the desk. "I want it rewritten—with the whole story." She stalks over to the door of my office, then stops. "Consider yourself lucky that the hostages weren’t harmed. That could’ve been disastrous for the department."
After she leaves, Sally steps closer to the desk. "Will you tell me the truth?"
I shove my report toward her. "Read it for yourself."
"Damn it, WuFei! Can’t you trust me? We’ve only been living together for ten years!"
She doesn’t understand. "If I tell you, you’ll have to report it to Lady Une. It’s not anything that will hurt the Preventor Operations in the future, since Duo, Heero, and Quatre were only helping us for this one mission. And it was successful. We completed our objectives, so just let it go."
She glares at me for a minute, then reaches over and rips the Preventor patch off of her jacket-sleeve. "Does this make a difference?" she asks, throwing it onto my desk.
I shake my head and she storms out of the office.
How can I tell her that Trowa and Quatre were hurt because Duo balked?
We had been the snipers covering Quatre as he downloaded security information from the terrorists’ database. Heero and Trowa were supposed to be there already, after sneaking in from the opposite side.
From my alcove I could see Duo, and a soldier approaching Quatre. He was closer to Duo, so I waited. But Duo didn’t shoot. I watched his face—his eyes narrowing as he was about to pull the trigger. But then he looked shocked and surprised, and maybe even guilty. He shrank back into his corner, letting the terrorist pass.
I tried to cover—I shot at the man, but the angle was bad and I missed. The soldier was warned of our presence, and immediately shot at Quatre.
And Trowa, who had just run in with Heero, pushed Quatre out of the way and took the bullet through his lung. After that, Quatre did his best to drag Trowa out of the building, but in doing so, took several bullets himself.
I sit back in my chair, taking the mission report in my hands. I’ll change it, but I won’t expose anyone.
Preventors aren’t supposed to develop a conscience. And they’re trained to leave a man down if they’re in danger. But I’m glad Trowa saved Quatre. It would’ve killed Quatre—it would’ve got him through the heart.
But why? They’re best friends, I know. I can’t help but wonder, though, if there isn’t something more that I’m missing.
When Trowa and I went to tell Quatre that the Preventors needed his help to stop dangerous terrorists, we ran into Maja on the way out. She had pulled Trowa aside and asked if her ‘daddy’ would be in danger. Trowa responded honestly and Maja asked if he would marry Silvia and take care of them, should Quatre get killed. I had wondered, for a moment, if the girl was unusually morbid. But then I was surprised by Trowa’s quick response: "Should anything happen to your parents, Maja, it’s my duty to take care of you. I would gladly marry your mother and take care of you both forever, if that’s what she wanted."
Is he in love with Silvia? It seems crazy to wonder—I mean, since everyone says he’s gay. But how else can this be explained? He probably saved Quatre’s life for Silvia as much as for himself—who wants to see the pain of the one he loves?
I set the report down and look at the phone; maybe I should call Sally.
October 23rd—Duo Maxwell—12:19 p.m.
I hate hospitals. They smell so . . . sterile. And harsh. But I have to be here. Trowa was moved out of I.C.U. today, and I’ve got to talk to him.
Hilde squeezes my hand. I haven’t told her anything, bit she seems to know that something big is on my mind. She skipped work to be here with me. Thank God the kids are in school. I don’t think I could handle watching two hyperactive seven-year-old pranksters right now.
"Hilde," I began, squeezing her hand gently in return, "I need to tell you something."
She arches her eyebrow inquisitively at me. "Hmm?"
"I-well, you see . . . it’s my fault that Trowa and Quatre are here."
She snaps her hand away. "Duo? What are you talking about? You didn’t turn on them like a traitor, did you?"
Hell, I’d forgotten what she could be like. "No! I mean that I fucked up. I failed my end of the mission!"
Her expression softens. "How?"
I drop my head in my hands. "There was a guy I was supposed to shoot—I was covering Quatre. But just as I was about to pull the trigger, I wondered if he was like me: somebody’s husband, somebody’s father. I didn’t want to be the one who caused a kid to grow up without a dad. I wondered what it’d be like if it was reversed—if I was killed leaving you with the twins."
"Oh, Duo," she breathes. "This is why fathers and husbands aren’t in the Preventor Operations any more."
I nod. I hadn’t truly understood it until now.
"I couldn’t kill him—I freaked. But once I saw him shoot at Quatre I snapped. I’d given him his life, but only so he could disregard everything that Quatre is. After that I killed him—and all the bastards that followed. But Trowa got himself shot, and Quatre ended up hurt, too, because of me."
I sigh, sitting up and facing Hilde again. "I think the worst thing, though, was that I was the one who left Quatre in danger. Trowa was the guy who acted like a real friend, and put his own life on the line for him."
Hilde gently pulls me closer, giving me a tender kiss. "You’re going to have to accept the things that change during your life, honey, and not wish that you could go back and change it all."
She’s right—but that doesn’t keep me from being wrong.
I’ve learned one thing, though. I don’t want to be a Preventor anymore.
October 23rd—Silvia Noventa-Winner—5:17 p.m.
"Hey there." My voice is quiet—in that soft hospital voice people use when they visit sick friends.
"Hey." Trowa sounds weak, but then again he just regained consciousness this morning.
"I’d hoped Maja could come visit you—but Sally had to pull strings to let her see Quatre. I couldn’t ask for more."
Trowa smiles, but with a wince of pain. "I wouldn’t want her to see me like this, anyway."
I sit down in the chair next to his bed, taking his hand in mine. "She misses you, and asks how you’re doing more often than she asks about her own father. In fact, just the other day, her kindergarten teacher came to me suggesting that maybe Maja needed counseling, since she insists that her family consists of her mother, her father, and her Trowa."
He laughs slightly, following it with shallow breaths. "That’s flattering, if not somewhat dysfunctional."
"You are part of our family, Trowa," I tell him, squeezing his hand for emphasis. He saved Quatre’s life—I owe him everything. "If it weren’t for you, I—we—" I choke up, tears constricting my throat.
His hand reaches upward, wiping a tear away from my cheek. "I know." His voice is thick with pain. "I’d be lost without him, too."
I know this. I’ve known that he loves my husband for as long as I’ve known him. And I can accept it. It brings me closer to him than Quatre is, in a way. Yet it hurts me to think that Quatre loves him in a way he cannot love me; it hurts me to know that Quatre so easily risked his life to get Trowa to safety.
It’s unfair for me to feel this way. But Quatre’s my husband—the father of my little girl. A selfish part of me wants him to be all mine—I don’t want anyone else to be as foolishly in love with him as I was when we married. I don’t want anyone else to have felt as though their heart had been ripped out when he was in danger.
And what makes it so hard is knowing that Quatre could’ve fallen for him, had it not been for me.
"But I did it for you—not for me." Trowa’s words interrupt my rambling thoughts. "I couldn’t let anything happen to him, knowing that you two would be hurt as well."
I lean forward, smoothing his hair away from his face. "Thank you," I whisper, kissing his cheek and his forehead. "From both me and Quatre."
He looks up at me, his eyes laced with a tinge of sadness. "How is he?"
"Fine," I answer, hoping to quell his concern. He needs to worry about his own health first. "He tells me that getting shot is worth it, as long as you’re okay."
His eyes droop shut as a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "That’s nice to know."
~*Home*~
~*Back to Fan Fiction*~
~*Back to YAOI*~