23-Feb-2001
Title: Chasing the Crown, an Extended Family Fic
ExFam Authors:
RavynFyre - ravynfyre@hotmail.com
Diane Davis - fenwyck@radiks.net
von - sablexo1@yahoo.com
bonnejeanne - bonnejeanne@yahoo.com
*Guests to be announced*
Category: yaoi, AU
Rating: PG-13 for now, that will change
Pairings: 1x2, 3+4
Spoilers: Series, Endless Waltz, Mission: Arcadia
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners.
Kenny, Duan, Wufan, Tryan, Carter, Jack and the Ripper, and everything relating to Rip & Jack's universe are ours. No money being made here.
Feedback: Any and all comments, feedback, critiques welcome, be they short or long.
Please feel free to direct feedback to any or all of the authors!
WARNINGS: AU (Alternate Universe), Original Characters, LEMON in some sections. Kiddie-Angst.
The small boys bowed as they had been taught and then Wufei dismissed them to go out and enjoy the daylight or raise hell or whatever they were going to do. He bowed formally to Duo as well and then threw him a towel and offered a bottle of water.
"You're undisciplined, but you don't need much training in physical forms," he commented. "If I had to pick, I'd suggest you study Wing Chun."
"Studied Wing for a while now. Hasn't done me much good yet," Duo replied saucily as he accepted the towel and water with a wink and a grin.
Wufei snorted softly. "Wing Chun, it's a martial art from China. Or perhaps Heero might be persuaded to train you in aikido."
Duo tossed Wufei an unrepentant chuckle before he indulged in a nice stretch.
"Nah. He's already got enough on his mind with everything else going on. Doesn't need to be tripping over me on the mats too. What's Wing Chun about anyway?"
"It's a form of kung fu," Wufei replied. "Emphasizes flow and balance. Good for a fighter who doesn't rely on strength or power moves, but uses more speed and flexibility. You might say it was designed for the weaker opponent to over come the stronger."
"So. You calling me weak?" Duo asked with another wink.
Wufei simply shook his head. "I started in Wing Chun. To win the right to pilot Altron, I had to best 6 other candidates, most of which were at least a foot taller and twenty pounds heavier." He shrugged.
"Somehow that doesn't surprise me in the least," Duo replied cryptically.
The Chinese boy glanced at Duo and then simply accepted it. "Something on your mind, Maxwell?"
Duo's perpetual grin faded slightly as he indulged in another long draught from the bottle Wufei had given him. He glanced back at the Chinese youth with a small shrug before answering.
"Maybe. Who knows... Yeah. Probably."
One dark eyebrow lifted. "Hn. Do you need an invitation?"
"That'd be a first, eh? An invitation to run my mouth. Bet you never saw that coming, huh?"
"No, I never did," Wufei agreed. He settled on a bench and pulled his feet up, dangling his arms over his knees.
Duo glanced around the room, finally opting to settle into a patently Duo Sprawl on the floor, absently toying with the bottle in his hands while he gathered his thoughts. After a few moments, he glanced almost shyly up at Wufei.
"Are we... How do you do it, Wufei?" he asked in a subdued voice.
"How do I do what, Maxwell? This is obscure even for you," Wufei said, but his voice was reasonably neutral.
"The whole... calm, cool, collected with all the answers thing?" Duo replied, glancing back down at his hands.
Wufei looked at the braided boy, slightly nonplussed. "Uh... I am definitely not following you here."
Duo shook his head, a soft snort of laughter bursting from his lips as he glanced back up.
"This. This family thing. You always seem... so much more... I dunno... in command than I feel. Like you actually know what you're doing. I feel like... I... Sifu," he finished lamely, tossing Wufei a helpless shrug.
Both eyebrows went up. Wufei rubbed his chin for a moment and then looked at Duo.
"Tradition," he said. "I guess... tradition. I was raised in a house where there were five generations present. Each one had a place in the organization of things, along with responsibilities and duties. The older taught and took care of the younger, and the whole family took care of the oldest. I was baby-sitting for nieces and nephews when I was eight. Is that what you mean?"
"I guess," Duo replied slowly, "I used to think... I had it all figured out. Ya know? When I helped take care of all the kids before F- Father Maxwell took us all in, I mean... I figured, how hard could it be? I'm older now. I can look after em better than I could when I was a kid... Things... they're so different. I just don't wanna ... screw em up. Ya know? But... I'm just not as good at this whole thing... as I thought I was... or something."
Wufei's expression shifted slightly. After a minute he nodded. "I think I understand," he said quietly. He glanced across the room for a minute, and then back. "I am the way I am because of tradition. Because I was taught to be this... and somewhere, here and there, are things that are me, that... survived it. I've always known this but I never questioned it, at least not since... not since I accepted my destiny to be a Gundam pilot. But when I was brought to Arcadia, and I saw Wufan..." he stopped a moment, looking down. "It would be so easy to make him... just like me. He wants it so much. And I don't want that... I truly don't. I see the value of my training but... I see where it stifles too. It's too late for me to change. Not too late to keep from making him in the same mold I was made in. But how do I stop when that tradition is all I know?"
"It's never too late to change, Wufei. Just ask Heero," Duo replied.
"We were talking about the children," Wufei said, glancing away. "There's no need for me to change. But you were right not to let Wufan fall into being a copy. You are right not to let any of them. Because it would be easy. You don't know all the answers... I do... because they were all decided before my birth, centuries before in fact. This can be a strong support, but it can also be an unyielding pattern that doesn't learn or grow. Maybe the answers I know aren't the right ones. You have a better guide. Listen to your heart, Maxwell. It has a strong voice... like the rest of you," he added, allowing the corner of his mouth to curve slightly.
"Yeah? Well, seems to me all my heart's been doing is trying to screw 'em up and confuse 'em," Duo murmured quietly, refusing to be humored.
"No, that's your head. Listen to your heart," Wufei returned, seriously. "Different voices."
"Always knew I had too many voices rattling around inside of me," Duo retorted.
He was quiet for a few moments before he glanced back up at Wufei. "How do I tell them apart, then? How do I know what to be for them?"
Wufei nodded to the first question. He listened to the second and his eyes lidded as he thought about it. "Be their ally," he said finally, slowly. "You were unselfish in that to all of us. I never saw you falter. You didn't worry about what you had to do, you just did it, and when it didn't work, you found a way to salvage something that did, out of it. I don't know if these are the words you want to hear, but I can't think of anything else to suggest."
"Any words right now help, Wufei. I... I just can't seem to find any balance in my skull..." Duo said, his voice drifting off to a soft whisper before he shook his head and looked back up at Wufei, "Sorry, man. I shouldn't be dumping on you like this. We all have enough going on in our lives without one crazy baka deciding to have a quaint little breakdown."
Duo grinned at Wufei and tossed him a mock salute with his mostly empty water bottle.
"Hn," Wufei responded. He regarded the other boy with continued seriousness. "I doubt I can offer much counsel that is of use to you. But I don't consider it an imposition. For what little it may be worth, I believe you are the right person to do this. Perhaps you may not feel that way for a long time, but I haven't seen anything that convinces me otherwise."
Wufei got up then and tossed his own towel into the wicker hamper. "I'll do my best to help," he added simply.
Duo cocked his head and regarded the Chinese youth steadily for a few moments before climbing to his own feet.
"You've already been a huge help, Wufei. Thanks... for everything," Duo replied with a small smile.
The Chinese boy nodded brusquely, but his expression was sober and his dark eyes met Duo's for a moment before he turned and left the room.
The next day Duo found a small object sitting on the nightstand on his side of the bed. It was a slender book, hardbound, a reprint of an old 20th century volume. The title read, "The Tao of Pooh."
Duo picked the slim book up and walked over to the chair by the window and opened it up. A small smile floated across his face as he read it for a while, occasionally pausing to stare out the window, deep in thought.
"You're too good to me, Wufei," he murmured as he shut the book gently, only half finished. He stared pensively at the cover for a long while before bouncing to his feet in an explosion of motion. With a sigh, he walked over to the dresser he'd claimed as his own and set the book on top. His violet gaze darted to another object sitting atop the dresser, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he took in the dullish grey planes of the weapon.
The Gun. His parting gift from Gun - no, Reg. Slender fingers reached out and carefully wrapped around the grip, frowning slightly as his palm molded tightly to the cool metal as if it had been forged for his hand alone. Somehow that unsettled him a little. Had he become so accustomed to conflict then, that this weapon felt so familiar in his hand?
Without quite knowing how he got there, Duo found himself on the front steps of the large home, his jacket slung over his shoulders and the gun tucked firmly in his back waistband. His feet carried him to a park not too far from their neighborhood that was usually deserted around this time of day. The children were all still in school, most people were off at work, and those few, like himself, who had no jobs, usually found other means of entertainment than sitting under a tree in an empty park with an alien weapon sitting cradled in their hands undergoing intense scrutiny. Which is exactly where he found himself after several minutes of walking.
"Well, partner, if we're gonna work together, I'd best start practicing," he said, realizing what an asset the weapon would probably be on their future hunt for the Crown.
He turned it over in his hands, minutely examining it from every angle for the first time. It was different than when Heero had used it, and much different than when Gun had used it. It had looked so huge in Gun's large hands, and somewhat blocky, almost angular and sharp. In Heero's hands, it had been smaller, but similar to the type of pistol he favored, retaining some of the angular lines. Now, however, it was small and compact, easily concealed with smoother planes and a more rounded, almost organic feel to it, without losing any of its inherent deadly feel. It looked almost like the perfect blend between a no-nonsense pistol, and a child's toy ray-gun. He stroked the length of the metallic grey barrel with a thoughtful finger, surprised when the weapon warmed in his hands and an almost welcoming purr trilled at the base of his brain.
"Whoa... Umm... Hi?" Duo murmured, his lavender eyes wide with shock as he settled the pistol more firmly in his grip.
There was no response from the weapon.
"Ookaay," Duo sighed, "So you're not sentient then. Or... Maybe you are... but your thought are so alien, that I just can't get them... Kinda like Heero sometimes."
Duo snorted to himself at that. More likely it was his own thoughts that were so alien to his lover that they just didn't seem to be connecting on the right wave length all the time these days. Something to consider later, perhaps. He was probably just imagining things anyway. This parenting gig was too new to either of them to be great at it just yet.
He shook his head and returned his attention to the gun in his hand. With a tentative thought, he willed it away, feeling it settle back into its spot in his waistband. It felt strange not to be drawing it, and his hand unconsciously moved towards his back as he called it back to his hand. That would take some getting used to.
He climbed to his feet, willing the gun away again, and headed over to the trash can to fish through it and pull out a few odd pieces of trash. He set the garbage up at varying distances away from the tree, and then returned to his shaded spot. With a thought, he called the weapon back to his hand, and stared out at his "targets".
"Just think the shot. How hard can that be, Maxwell? Focus and think," he murmured, putting words to thought.
The soda can he'd been watching wobbled a little as a neat little hole appeared in the metal. A tight, calculating grin crossed Duo's face as he formed another shot in his mind and then set the thought loose. The can evaporated in a mist of molten aluminum as the larger lance of energy speared it. He spent the next several minutes steadily working his way through the grouping of targets he'd set up for himself, taking a strange sort of satisfaction in seeing them all vanish, one by one.
Now if only he could get the rest of the crap in his life to do the same thing, everything would be perfect.
It wasn't too long before he ran out of things in the trash can he was willing to handle to pull out and use as targets. Even Duo had his garbage limits. Besides, the park may be fairly out of the way and normally deserted, but someone was bound to get curious about the odd flashes of light coming from it this afternoon.
He spent a few minutes doing nothing more than calling the gun to his hand and willing it away over and over, until he could feel himself getting used to not reaching for it. His hand still sorta tensed up as he called the gun, but eventually, with practice, maybe even that old habit would fade away. He'd just have to make time to work with the curious pistol every day now, much as he was making time to work on his martial arts with Wufei.
"Funny how much more militant I'm getting in peacetime," he murmured to himself as he willed the gun away one last time.
He snorted mirthlessly to himself as he turned to head back home.
"Geeze, lighten up, Maxwell! Looks who's getting the gloomy personality now?"
He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked down the streets back to the first real home he'd ever known. He paused on the front walk, staring up at the large structure. Father Maxwell and Sister Helen had been like his parents for a very short while when he was young, but somehow, this felt different. It went deeper than the simple role reversal: him being the "parental unit" now instead of the wide-eyed child. It was more important somehow, both stronger and more fragile at the same time. There were more of them to hold the bond together, more shoulders to settle the burden of unity upon, more hands to lighten the load.
There were also more hearts to break. There was more to lose here than ever before, if he didn't tread carefully and do things right.
He hung his head a little, retreating back to his thoughts as he trudged up the steps to the porch and into the house. Duo was surprised at the silence that greeted him. He must have beaten the children home from school. And Heero must still be off doing... whatever it was that he'd planned on doing that day. Sallah was probably still off at the library researching as she was wont to do since she'd arrived here. For a moment, Duo idly considered finding Wufei again, but changed his mind and headed up the stairs to his room. He'd bugged Wufei enough yesterday. Besides, he still had that book to finish.
As he entered the bedroom, he tossed his jacket over the chair by the window and called the gun to his hand. It appeared effortlessly, almost trilling happily in the back of his brain again, but muted, like a whisper from another room. Duo caught himself smiling at the warm sensation running from fingers to arm to spine to brain. It was pleasant and welcoming.
With the faintest twinge of regret, he carefully set the gun down on his dresser where he'd gotten it from earlier that afternoon. The instant before his fingers disengaged from the cool metal, there was a flare of almost panic that raced through his body and buzzed in his head. Surprised, he scooped up the weapon again and turned, surveying the room warily. The pleasant hum returned, almost rewarding him. He stumbled back a bit, settling onto the bed he shared with Heero to stare contemplatively at the weapon. Experimentally, he laid it down on the covers and let go. The panic didn't return, now that he was prepared for it, rather, a muted sort of almost regret did. As soon as his fingers closed around the grip again, the content warmth returned as well.
"You don't like to be away from your wielder..." the braided pilot murmured to himself.
He shook his head, a typical Duo-esque grin spreading across his face.
"Could get awkward in the shower," he declared wryly as he vanished the gun back into the spot along his waistband that was rapidly becoming familiar with the press of the cool metal against the base of his spine.
With a snort to himself, he stood and returned to the dresser to scoop up the book Wufei had left for him once more. With a heavy flop, he threw himself sideways into the chair by the window and flipped through the pages until he found the spot where he'd left off. He shifted a little, slowly accustoming himself to the bulge at the small of his back, and almost taking comfort from the press of the gun against the arm of the chair. Barely a couple of hours and already it felt like it *belonged* in that spot, it was meant to be with him.
Now if only he could assimilate the lesson of "The Tao of Pooh" so easily, life would be complete. Turning his thoughts from the gun back to the book in his hands, he set about doing just that.
Later that evening Carter sat in the bathtub, quietly, chin on his knees, looking down into the water. Each exhaled breath caused the water to move, reflecting the bathroom lights and disturbed images of the wall, the fixtures, and Carter himself. He watched the light patterns breakup and reform, never still, and his pulse slowed slightly as his respiration became deep and regular.
Pupils dilated in wide, blue-green eyes, as his physical vision unfocused and his inner vision opened.
Trained almost from before he could walk, Carter had abilities his new adopted family could barely guess at. His training was all designed to put him at the disposal of an outside, controlling will, and without anyone to direct him, he largely ignored his own capabilities except when something slipped past his training and intruded into his consciousness. This had happened with alarming frequency after his departure from the base, but Carter was a bright boy and guessed it was because everything around him was so new and different. He dealt with the intrusions as best he could and even began learning something about how to deal with them on his own.
Moving into the new house had been terribly exciting. Having a room he could share with Tryan was an unbelievable and wonderful thing that he could hardly believe. He'd never been around other boys, only his sisters, and the psychic backlash from the identical clones had necessitated his being allowed to sleep in a room by himself, separated from the disruption. But living with his new family, Carter found that while his senses were often bombarded with stimulation, it was in every way distinctly different from the grinding pressure he'd lived with for all of his young life, the absence of which all but induced a state of near euphoria in the child.
For a while the bright, dynamic flashes of emotion, sensory impression and unspecific knowledge had been too chaotic to sort, but lately he'd been getting a bit of a handle on these things, much to his own surprise.
Halloween evening... the recollection still brought a smile to his face. Even the serious, disturbing emotions coming from Heero and Duo couldn't displace that for him, but the undercurrents which had been noticed by the other boys were as distinct and clear as troubled rivers of indigo and vermilion, or the melodies of cracking glacier.
Then there was the time Kenny and Duan had raced up to the roof and back... looking through books of animals with Tryan in the house, Carter had felt the waves of mingled panic, sadness and fear, the more complex recrimination and guilt, all so similar, and coming from both the boys and the two who adopted them all.
Then there were the complex, even baffling things that sometimes slipped into him from the other older boy, the Chinese pilot, who so resembled Wufan. His mind was disciplined, in way both like and unlike Heero's, the most intense thoughts and emotions guarded so closely that they rarely slipped through, but startling in the depth and sudden heat of them when they did.
It was one of these brief, incredibly rare flashes that had given Carter to beginnings of a puzzle he'd decided to take up as his own. For just as he knew without much effort that the Chinese boy was sincere to the depths of his heart in his commitment to the newly-formed family, he also knew that of all of them, Chang Wufei had actually seen the Crown.
More than that he did not know, and it did not occur to Carter to try and scrutinize the older boy's mind. He took that one unguarded flash of memory and placed it in his own recollection, regarding it as a clue to a larger picture. From that time, something had begun to tease at him, and each time he felt a certain sense of unrest, an emotion that almost seemed to move through the household like a momentary wind, he focused on it, recording, assessing, storing the information as he had been trained to do.
Watching the patterns of light in the water, Carter loosened the bindings of his consciousness and opened himself to what would come.
The light pounding on the door penetrated and he blinked, looking up. The warm bath water was now cold and his skin was starting to prune. He took a deep breath and then called, "Ok, Tryan, I'm coming out!"
Quickly sorting what he found in his mind, he rubbed himself dry and brushed his teeth. Closing his eyes, he tested... yes, it was there. Faint, very faint, but perceptible. There was something in the house, something that seemed to hover slightly around Heero. It was like an intangible taste in the back of the throat, it was something that had been in the Japanese boy's mind, sometime in the past, and gone, leaving a slightest residue, sleeping, but perhaps gradually strengthening. It could not be called a presence. At most, a memory. At least, a forgotten nightmare. It gave no evidence of itself, it showed no sign. It existed only in the momentary blink of an ill-chosen word or flash of a destructive thought... the invisible erosion of an unquestioning trust.
Nodding to himself, Carter combed his spun-gold curls absently and nibbled his thumb for a moment. "I see you," he said softly to the intangible thread. It wasn't enough yet, but it was a beginning. The little psychic fastened on the perception with a tenacity that would rival that of any soldier or warrior. Untroubled by concerns of where the thread might lead or what could be done about it, Carter locked it down.
Emerging from the bathroom he listened to Tryan huff softly as he went in for his own bath, and smiled affectionately at the other boy. Tryan returned the smile immediately and then shook his head. "Stay in there all night next time," Tryan teased pointedly.
"Uh uh," Carter said, jumping into his bed. "Don't wash down the drain, Tryan!" he giggled.
"No such luck for you, blondie," the green-eyed boy called over the water.
Climbing into his bed and snuggling down into the covers, Carter took a moment to consider something else that he'd been thinking about.
Soon they'd be going to Earth, and there was going to be a large party of some kind with lots of people. Listening from the doorway to the conversation between Duo and the lady, he'd heard the braided older boy mention a name that he sparked to instantly.
Quatre.
He remembered very clearly meeting the older boy in Arcadia. It was all been so new to him, he could only guess at much of what was going on around him, but he remembered the way the older boy had seemed almost to twinkle with energy, and then had seemed to draw back, as if receiving too much input. He remembered the brief, fuzzy moment of contact when the other empath had sent a carefully vocalized thought... it was a little like hearing himself, with overtones of richness and depth he could barely contain. Watching and listening carefully, he'd been conscious of something strained, something slightly...
*SNAP* went something in Carter's head and he sat up abruptly, blinking. He recognized it now! The feeling of that distant stressor... it was... it was identical to the thread.
With no idea what it might mean, he filed it away in his mind, determined to collect each piece of the puzzle until he could put it together and make a picture.
Laying back down, pulling up the covers, Carter feel asleep musing, with the image of a blond boy of seventeen winding among his thoughts.
TBC
End of Part 5
Please feel free to direct feedback to any or all of the authors!
ravynfyre@hotmail.com,
fenwyck@radiks.net,
sablexo1@yahoo.com,
bonnejeanne@yahoo.com.