Dealing With the Consequences
Title: Dealing with the Consequences
Part: 2/2
Author: Genji
Warnings: See Part 1
Disclaimer: I don’t own or claim to own anything
Feedback: Craved like a heroine addict craves his next hit.
*emphasis*
//thoughts//
[translation]
~*~change of scene
~*~
While the unrest progressed in far-off Greece, Trowa savored his day off. The winter sun was gentle on his aching body. He felt like an old man with all his bodily complaints. The youth reclined against the base of a silvery olive tree. In the summer the gray-green leaves would have provided a refreshing respite from the singeing sun.
As he slipped into a trance like state, a voice drifted into his consciousness.
"Trowa? You there, Trowa?"
The 17-year-old shook his head, forcing himself to return to reality.
"If you aren't here, where are you?"
Trowa looked up into violet eyes. It took a while for the face to match up with a name, but it came to him.
"Duo."
"Yup. Whatcha doing here?"
"My day off."
"Ever industrious Trowa. What happened to the circus business? I talked to Catherine. She's down right worried about you. If you call worried giving your friend a piece of her mind for what you did. Hell! She even tried to pin the blame on me for having you run off. Not that it would stick, since I was across the Atlantic at the time."
"You're hair-"
"It always comes back to that, doesn't it? I cut it," Duo remarked, and then added, "but I'll explain why later. You wanna make a small trip up North?"
"Why?"
"Sally said she wanted to go over a couple things with us."
"I don't-"
"Come on, it's for your own good. I wouldn't've come if it weren't for the best, would I?"
"No."
"That's the spirit. Here, let me give you a hand up. Where do you live? The plane leaves in two hours, so we gotta run."
"What about-"
"Your job? I left a note with them. I think they'll be more than happy to greet you with open arms when you return. If not, they're gonna have to deal with me."
Trowa raised an eyebrow, wondering what the American could do to inspire fear in Tavey. However, he couldn't ponder it for long, since the black-clad teen was waving him over to a waiting taxi. Already, he could hear Duo talking in rapid Italian to the nodding driver.
"Trowa, where did you say you lived again?"
~*~
Quatre was bent over a pot. It had been another hectic day at the restaurant; even more so, since Eva had called in sick and Jan had disappeared into some corner to sulk. Then there was Sydney, who at the moment was banging pots and pans, cursing about help.
A shadow was thrown across the floor, and Sydney quieted, her shrewd eyes darting to the figure clothed in military garb that stood in the doorway.
"Wrong entrance," she growled.
The woman at the entrance shook her head.
"I'm not interested in eating here. Do you know anyone by the name of Quatre Winner?"
"What about him? He didn't do anything to anybody. He's a good kid, and I don't know why he'd be in trouble with the law," she said in her low, dangerous voice, like a wolf protecting her litter. However, she added loudly, "I think you mean Jan. Can't trust him one bit."
"I'm here on personal business."
Sydney crossed her arms and stared down the impertinent woman. //Doesn't she know that she isn't going to get him? I've seen her type 'round here. Some army needs soldiers, they come 'round the workplace and try to dazzle them with the showiness of it all. I won't let him be brought down to that level. Must I spell it out to her that I won't let her do that to him?// As she was about to retort, the voice of the quiet Arab was heard.
"Sally, what brings you here?" He stood about twenty feet away from her, and still he didn't raise his voice. He looked tired, as he dried his hands with a dishtowel.
"Came to see you, actually. How has this bear been treating you?" she asked, indicating to the still fuming cook.
"Couldn't ask for better. Sydney's helped me quite a bit."
//You never were one to ask, Quatre, but I'm glad they weren't running you ragged.//
"Duo came and told me something, and I think you should hear it to."
"Great. Tell me."
Sally shook her head, "No, it's best if the five of you hear it at once."
"Oh."
"We'll be in Luxembourg. I have the plane ticket." Sally held out the stiffened piece of paper, not quite copy paper, not quite cardboard, but a happy median.
Quatre turned to Sydney, his boss, his friend, and his confidant.
"I have to go. But I'll stick around to finish up with the dishes."
"Don't worry about it. Jan can do them."
A voice from the back of the kitchen screamed, "I WILL NOT!"
"OH YES YOU WILL!" Sydney roared back, brandishing a frying pan. "Don't worry about it. Your job'll be here when you return."
"Thanks." Then Quatre did the unexpected: he threw his arms around the African lady and whispered, "Thanks for everything."
Caught off guard, Sydney could only stand there. The blond pulled away, and followed the mysterious woman out the door.
"Come back soon, Quatre," Sydney whispered before she went off to terrorize the reluctant dishwasher.
~*~
"He refuses to come," Duo half-whined, holding his aching head in his hands.
"Wufei was never the one to cooperate."
"Uh-huh, tell me about it. I have his address and his phone number, but his phone's disconnected."
"We'll have to send someone down to where he works, then," Sally said evenly.
"I'll go," The Arab offered, trying to be helpful.
Duo looked at the pale blond, and shook his head. "No, you shouldn't go there. I'll go."
"I WILL go. Give me the address," Quatre asserted, reaching out for the paper that Sally held.
Reluctantly the major general relinquished the information. Quatre read over the slip of paper before slipping it into his pocket. As he went out the door, Duo called, "Don't say I didn't warn you."
"That still leaves the problem of Heero," Sally continued.
"He went underground or something. There's absolutely no record of him doing any transactions, not so much as cashing a government check."
"Put out an APB," Trowa remarked from the corner, where he was sitting, gazing up at the ceiling with a blank look on his face.
"An All Points Bulletin? For what? He'd never forgive us," Duo pondered aloud.
"Do you want him here or not? There is no possible way we can search every corner of earth and space in a timely manner. Put down some minor crime that the Preventers have sole jurisdiction over. The policemen will eventually find him, and bring him in. Then they'll notify us."
"It just might work," Sally remarked. She got up from her chair by the fire, walked to the bookshelf and pulled out a thick tome. She paged through it, talking quietly to herself. Her finger stopped on a certain spot and looked up, triumphant. "It just might work."
~*~
Heero was prodded awake. He opened one of his eyes to see the capped face of a policeman staring down at him. He grumbled and rolled over. There was enough on this park bench for two. Again he was poked, and bleary eyed he tried to stare them down. They were saying something, something in a language he couldn't comprehend in the state he was in. It required too much effort.
"Vas con nosotros," the first of the pair remarked. [You come with us.]
Heero remained still, preferring the illusion of warmth sleep offered.
"Ahora, muchacho. No tenemos todo el día," came the second, firm voice. [Now, boy. We do not have all day.]
The youth stirred, but made no effort to move off from the bench he was occupying.
Frustrated, the first policman threatened, "Entonces, te vamos a tirar en una celda de carcel." [Then, we are going to throw you into a prison cell.]
The first man, who had never been that bright, turned to his companion. "Para, Paco. El vamos a tirar en una celda como quiera que sea." [Wait, Paco. We are going to throw him into a cell anyhow.]
"Idioto! No lo dijes!" [Idiot! Don't say it!]
They laid hands upon him then, and Heero wondered in the back of his mind, why he was being dragged away from his comfortable perch in the park. Vagrancy. That was the only thing that came to mind. In short, that was why the two had picked up the wandering boy, yet he was kept there for two weeks longer than the term for vagrancy allotted, since someone had forgotten to notify the Preventers that they had successfully captured the organization's quarry.
~*~
"Wufei?"
The Chinese youth stopped in mid motion, as he heard a voice from his past. It would be of no use to turn around. He finished the animal he was working on before he turned, so that he appeared to have a clue what was happening.
"What?" he asked tiredly, trying to place a sound to a name. Why hadn't he paid more attention when he could see?
"Well?" he demanded impatiently, fingering the air gun, while Hulin yelled at him to continue working. He turned back to kill the next animal, a chestnut mare with a star the shape of South America on her forehead, but he couldn't see that. A hand on his arm stopped him.
"Don't. Can't you see what beauty you are killing?"
An uncommon wave of anger passed over him brought on by someone pointing out his greatest weakness. "No. I can't see. Is that what you wanted? Take away my job. I don't care. I just don't care anymore."
"Come." There were hands on his shoulders, urging him away from the bloody hell. Hands that steered him back up the aisle, while haunted men looked enviously at his escape, his freedom that they could only dream about. Then he was gone, and their slavery continued. Beauty never does last long.
~*~
Trowa fumed as the bumbling Spaniard in front of him double-checked to make sure that he, Trowa Barton, was actually part of the enigmatic organization known as the Preventers. It checked out. Sally had seen to that. The dark-haired man mumbled something about prisons being the same, and led the tall youth to a holding cell, where drunks and prostitutes mingled with drug dealers and thieves.
His guide waved him in, and there was some cheering and hooting from the caged people. They thought another infringer of the law had come to join them. However, the jailer remained nearby, and the tumult quieted. Trowa trudged through the moving sea of sin, searching for one that would not be found too easily. As he was about to return to the bars and order himself released, he caught sight of a huddled mass in the corner.
The Latin ex-pilot made his way through the churning mass of bodies. He squatted down and tried to look into the closed face of the slumped bag of flesh and bone. Behind, someone made a lewd comment to break the tense atmosphere, and there was laughter all around. Trowa fought the urge to turn around and yell at them, knowing it would probably result in nothing more than a serious beating.
The eyes opened, and while they lacked any spark of intelligence, Trowa knew that he had found the pilot he sought. Eye color doesn't change, no matter what happens to the flesh.
"Come," the green eyed Preventer ordered, offering the addled boy his hand. Heero viewed it dolefully, unable to comprehend what that distant voice was saying in his fog-filled brain. Forcefully, the tall youth hauled the feverish teen onto his feet, before he half carried, half dragged him to the bars. The clerk pretended to ignore his demands in retaliation for Trowa's shortness to him earlier. The uni-banged brunette had to threaten him with the wrath of the Preventers before their jailer would set them free.
Trowa bundled the inmate off into his car and hurried off to the airport, in order to catch his flight.
~*~
Sally was disturbed by the lassitude displayed on all of the pilot's parts. When she had known them during the war, they had been idealistic and energetic, now they seemed like broken toys, cast aside after a child's furry. However, her worst fears were confirmed when Trowa walked in the door, carrying Heero's limp body like he was some newly wed bride to be ushered over the threshold.
She set about having a bed made up in one of the unused dorm rooms. The base was practically empty with the battalion gone, and so it wasn't difficult to move the pale Asian into a quiet place.
As Trowa set him down on the bed, Sally noticed the ugly bruises on both pilots-- Heero more so than Trowa, but it simply added to the long list of unanswered questions. She ushered the silent youth from the room, after he simply stood there, unsure of whether to stay or go, before she turned back to her patient.
Something must be done to lower his fever before it rose high enough to kill whatever brain cells he had remaining. The second was to get a blood test. The bruises had given her an awful idea of what could have been the cause of it all. The third could wait until after Heero awoke, and that was to have him clean himself up. Wherever he had been, it certainly hadn't involved regular showering.
~*~
Wufei languished in a depression. He hated being in new surroundings, always bumping into things. In his mind he was pounding against invisible walls, trying to escape the darkness that threatened to drown him. The feeling of frustration carried into reality as he savagely kicked a wall.
Someone had suggested the idea of him having a stick, or a dog, or some sort of thing that would allow him to be able to walk twenty feet without slamming into anything. Wufei had said that he could get along just fine, and that he didn't need some worrisome onna telling him what to do. Duo had laughed, and said that he was digging his own gave. Wufei had stormed out, and succeeded in not colliding with anything that time. Now he was seriously considering the idea, despite the show of weakness, it would give him a greater sense of independence. //Maybe a dog. A vicious dog ought to keep them quiet for a while.//
The teen entered to common room and allowed himself to sink down into a chair only to get a surprised sound from underneath. The Chinese man jumped up. "Who's there?"
Silence.
The Asian stalked off, silently infuriated about non-speaking chair occupiers. He found another seat, and after thoroughly feeling it over to make sure it was empty, let himself collapse into the upholstered depths. All he wanted to do was curl up and sleep. The common room provided a warmer climate than that of his room, and so he sought it out for napping purposes. However, he would not get off to sleep so easily.
The door opened, disrupting his dozing.
"The blood tests are back," Sally remarked in a guarded voice.
"Did we pass?" That was Duo, trying to crack jokes to a room that lacked the energy to laugh.
"To be blunt--no."
"What do you mean?" Quatre asked, paling under his already pale features.
"We've got two cases of AML and three cases of chronic radiation sickness."
"AML?" Quatre rolled the letters around in his mouth, trying to fathom what sort of thing would be attached to them.
"Acute myeloid leukemia."
"Shit," Duo swore quietly.
"What belongs to whom?" Trowa asked in a dead voice.
Keeping a straight face, she replied, "You and Heero have leukemia while the other three have radiation sickness."
"Why?" Quatre asked the question that went through all their minds.
Sally sighed and tossed him a magazine, _Modern Medical Science_, and said, "Turn to page 51."
Quatre complied and read the headline, squinting against the fog that had recently started to obscure his vision, 'Gundanium and its Effects on Organic Cells.' As he read the article, it became clear that experiments had been done on both the pure substance, and the alloy, when the newly discovered element had been melded with carbon, manganese, nickel, molybdenum and tungsten.
The results, in short, displayed that both the alloy and the element were radioactive. While the mixture of metal diluted the potency of the element, it itself was still unstable, and could accordingly cause damage. The element itself gave off 400 roentgens, while the alloy gave off a quarter of that, which was still enough to cause radiation sickness, and other types of radiation-caused illnesses.
When Quatre finished he put the paper down, and looked at Sally. She was still standing, tight-lipped, a crease formed on her forehead.
"Is there something else that we need to know?" the Arabian youth asked.
"You don't need to know it, but it's only fair that you should."
"What?" Duo inquired from his place by the fire.
"They knew. All five of them knew."
"Who?" Wufei demanded.
"The scientists. They knew all about it. Did they say anything about it to any of you?"
Duo shook his head and ran his hand through what should have been thick, luxurious hair, only to come in contact with air.
Trowa took the news quietly, and flexed his aching wrists.
With unseeing eyes, Wufei stared off into space, trying to fathom what he had just heard.
Surprisingly, it was Quatre who voiced their opinions of betrayal. "How could they? How COULD they? To not even have the decency to tell us! They knew that when it was all over, when all was said and done, we'd be nothing but harmless cripples?!?"
"Far from harmless," came a new voice. Eyes turned toward the speaker. Dark hair hid the pail features, but there was only one possibility. Only one possibility from the way the figure held the wall like it was only his grip that kept him up, only one possibility from the dead voice, only one possibility from the way the sunken eyes flashed.
The bedraggled youth continued, tossing the Chinese woman the day's paper, "Why don't you tell us the real reason we're here, Sally."
Trowa looked up upon hearing that, and Quatre opened and closed his mouth. Wufei shifted, in order to hear the monotone better. Only Duo had an inkling.
"The opposition has thirty to forty Leos and a Veate."
"Well that changes things."
"Whatcha mean, Sally?"
...end flashback>
Sally sighed. "There was a dual purpose for my finding you. True, the first and foremost was to find out if you were all suffering from what Duo complained of."
Duo muttered quietly, "I wasn't complaining."
"And the second?" Quatre prompted
"There's a revolt in Greece. The troops that we sent are in the process of being slaughtered, and still the fighting goes on. There are 40 Leos and a Veate on their side. We cannot even hope to overcome such odds, however you..."
"...are accustomed to those chances," Duo finished.
"...were...are, I should say, the best. That is what I meant. But you're right. Being outnumbered means little to you, unlike some of those under me now."
"I don't know who I want to kill more, you or them," Duo snarled.
"What's done is done, there's no use in getting angry at what happened in the past," Trowa spoke, tired of it all, and still they had to fight. //Always fighting. We're always fighting. Will there ever be peace for us?//
"Where are the suits?" Heero asked, regarding the woman with cold fury.
"You can't, not in-"
"Look, I'm going to die. I might as well not have lived my life in vain."
He spoke the truth, with the peace that they had all sought to achieve almost in tatters, it seemed as if the Eve Wars had been fought for naught.
"I'm not going to help you on this kamikaze mission."
"I'll find them myself."
Heero pushed away from the wall, and with straight shoulders he walked out. One by one, each pilot followed. Wufei followed Duo's voice, as he talked to no one in particular, just so that the Chinese teen could keep his dignity. Sally watched the already dead men leaving. Deep down she knew that she would never see them alive again.
~*~
"Well, it's been nice knowin' ya," the American chirped.
Duo pulled his cap over his eyes, and smiled. The five suits had been loaded into a carrier, and now Trowa was warming up the engine. Wufei sat on top of his suit, talking to it. For once, just being near the massive machines didn't torment him. Quatre appeared next to Trowa and ran a hand through his own thinning hair. Heero, having seen to the last of the details, nodded to Trowa and the uni-banged pilot started going through the motions of taking off.
~*~
Nilos grinned as the decree went forth that the last soldier had been executed. Those captured had lost their heads on a crudely built scaffold in the center of the agora. The rest of the cities had done similarly. But here, in the capital, it was time to thank those that had helped free the country before another fleet of soldiers came in. The Protectors of Freedom, the name the squadron of MS's had taken for themselves, had gathered within the ancient city, but still, manned suits remained on guard.
Achillios, the popular leader of the day, appeared. He was no more than a symbol of all those that worked toward freeing the nation. The crowd cheered upon seeing the man who had proven himself in battle time and time again.
However, the applause quieted as two shapes appeared at the edge of the gathering place. The Leos themselves prepared to move into action, until Kyros called, "They're from our side. We're the only ones who have Mobile Suits."
However, the idea of two more, unaccounted for Leos unnerved him, and he shouted through his intercom, "Incoming suits, identify yourselves."
His order was responded to with fire. People ran and screamed. Men raced for futile weapons as buildings came crashing down.
"Return fire! RETURN FIRE!!!"
His troops had already set themselves into motion, and a blast tore off the right arm of the first suit.
"05, to your right," Duo called. Wufei gave a quarter turn and shot at an unseen target. The approaching suit exploded.
"Bull's eye! Nice shooting. At 6:00," Duo warned, while he mowed down a set of oncoming enemies.
Such was the way they fought, Wufei barely missing being killed, Duo warning him, while taking out a couple of his own adversaries. However, one suit went undestroyed, and that one, missed by a blind gunner, sent the hungry youth to the other side with a shot to the chest.
"Ok, you are SO dead!" Shinigami roared, tearing after the retreating suit.
~*~
In the north of the city two other unidentified suits touched down. There the two engaged the enemy, fighting fire with fire.
"03, to your left!" Quatre called, as he sent a ball of energy that leveled an oncoming suit and the building behind.
"Roger that, 04."
Trowa spun the aging suit around on a dime, the joints creaking as they took the pressure he demanded. The pilot of the oncoming suit was dead before the Latin youth's Leo completed a full circle
"It looks like we're done here," Trowa remarked, viewing the flattened area where they had spent the last half-hour. There were no more Leos to be seen.
"Let's end this thing, once and for all," Quatre spoke, determined to face the masses, so that perhaps he could plead with them to relinquish their beliefs.
Trowa and Quatre made there way to the center, where the majority of the populace remained around.
Quatre opened up the cockpit and got out, wishing to address the assembled as a human to a human, and not as a threat. "Just surrender. Can't you see that all this is unnecessary? Can't you-"
His words were cut short as a sniper's bullet entered his skull, just above the ear. The Arab's frail body was thrown off the narrow platform and onto the ground. He lay there, gazing with sightless eyes at the blue Mediterranean sky.
Trowa blinked in shock and bent his suit down to pick up the fallen boy. As he bowed down to pickup the lifeless corpse, he was hit from behind.
One Leo had survived.
~*~
With killer instincts, Heero honed in on each suit's weaknesses. Ten different heaps of burnt and twisted metal lay about the area. A new suit appeared from behind one of the few of remaining buildings that were still standing. It was Lieutenant Kyros and his Veate, Silka. With a growl, Heero engaged the enemy. Kyros leveled the beam cannon, and prepared to shoot. The Asian moved to get out of the way of the blast sent from the gun, but it wasn't fast enough. The direct shot created a fireball explosion, and all that was left was a flaming shell and the charred remains of one that had been able to bring fleets of soldiers to their death.
As Kyros turned around, victorious, he was faced with the last of the five.
"It's just you and me, buddy," the enraged pilot of the Leo cried. "I'm gonna make sure you join me on that one way trip to HELL!"
Kyros laughed at the unmarked Leo's audacity and leveled the beam cannon.
"I don't think so. Desperate men do desperate things. You should know that by now." Duo launched his Leo at the man, and right before impact, he hit the self-detonation switch.
~*~
Sally watched the news. There was peace, for the time being. Greece had gotten its independence, but the people had sobered. Some remembered the one pilot that had begged for the surrender, and how he had died before anyone could decide otherwise. No one knew their names. No one knew who had had fought in the suits, and which side belonged to whom. All that remained were the ruins of forty-six mobile suits, and a leveled city, with a steady stream of survivors leaving.
"Coming up next, unrest in the Middle East: The Fight for Sovereignty Continues," the deep voiced anchor announced. Commercials flashed on, advertising toothpaste that made the dentist obsolete. It was recommended by three out of four. //The fourth probably wants to keep his job.//
Sally turned off the TV. She walked to the window, and on the horizon smoke could be seen. It was probably nothing more than a farmer burning last year's leaves. There was peace for now, but the stirrings of war could be heard.
Sally thought bitterly, //Do people value so little what costs others so much?//
~OWARI~
© 2000 by Genji. Please do not remove without permission.
