18-Jun-2000
Hi hi! Thanks to everyone who has responded to this fic. Everyone has been really kind and helpful and after the fic please stop at the door to receive your complimentary glomp and bouquet of candied roses (courtesy of T. Khushrenada, Inc.)
Title: Breaking Predestination 8/?
Author: TB
Archive: yes please GW Addiction (thank you! hugs)
Category: AU, some yaoi
Pairing(s): R+1, 2x1, 5xSally, 4x3, etc
Rating: R
Warnings: language
Spoilers: yes
Notes: Thanks to Marsh for beta-ing and muse-ing ^_^
Your late night conversations are the light of my
life!
Feedback: please :)
Disclaimers: I do not own, nor do I profit by use of,
Gundam Wing.
Wufei groaned and buried his face in his blanket. "Go 'way, onna," he muttered.
Sally, grinning, leaned over her husband and gently began to tickle the silky curve of one caramel-coloured cheek. An irritated swat did not deter her; she leaned in even further, and teasingly blew a little stream of air into Wufei's ear. This time her attack was greeted with a growl--but still no movement from the man.
With exaggerated brightness, Sally announced, "Ah! Look at those. What are your feet doing, sticking out of the sheets? You'll get cold. Let me just cover those for you--"
An iron hand clapped over her wrist as she moved to apply her tickling fingers to the twitching toes. Wufei growled again as he tugged imperiously, and pulled Sally down onto the mattress beside him, sliding his arms around her and spooning her back against the warmth of his chest. Muttering to himself, he pulled the sheets over their bodies, and prepared to fall asleep again.
Sally lay docile enough for a moment, enjoying her husband's somewhat gruff morning affection. She smiled and breathed the scent of him. Wufei was such a bear in the early hours, but curiously, he was often the most amorous in the morning. Sally took gleeful advantage of that.
"Darling," she said. She ran a hand over the firmly muscled thigh that was flung across hers.
"Mmm."
"There's something I want to tell you."
Warm lips began a track down her neck to her bare shoulder. "Later," Wufei whispered, nipping lightly. His hands began a journey of their own.
Her spine arched as his mouth found a particularly sensitive spot. "Darling? It's important."
"Stupid onna," he murmured huskily, burying his nose in her hair. "What is it that can't wait a few more minutes?"
"Wufei--I'm pregnant."
All movement in the bed ceased.
When the silence threatened to become deafening, Sally ventured, "Wufei?"
No response came from her husband.
"Honey? Wufei?"
He sat up, and swept unkempt black hair out of his stunned face. Sally, staring at him, suddenly giggled. He drew a deep breath.
"*Onna!*"
Trowa tugged lightly on Quatre's elbow, pointing down the stairway to where Sally and Wufei sat on a bench, deep in a conversation that appeared rather mushy. "He seems to be grinning a lot," the taller man noted.
Quatre glanced over. "Mm." His eyes turned down again, and the abstracted expression he'd worn for the past several hours reappeared. Trowa sighed. Nothing he'd done could draw his lover out of his self-imposed mire of guilt. *We don't even know what happened with this "son" of his,* he thought, leaning back in his chair to gaze at the bowed blonde head. *He's taking this so hard, and we don't even know what he's done--what he'll *do*--This is ridiculous, and I can't even stop it.*
A hand came to rest lightly on his shoulder, and Trowa looked up to see Captain Maxwell. "Good morning," the older man said.
"Morning." Trowa gestured to an empty seat at their table in the multi-tiered dining room. The opulence seemed rather wasted, as the gigantic hall was populated by less than ten people.
Maxwell eased into the seat, reaching to pick up and overturn his coffee cup. Trowa obligingly poured for him, dropping in a slice of orange from the bowl on the table, remembering from the war how Duo preferred his caffeine doses. The Captain grinned at him, and sipped slowly. "What's on your agenda today?" he questioned, his breath blowing steam away from the rim.
Trowa glanced at Quatre, looking for any sign that his lover even knew they had company. After a moment, he shrugged. "Whatever comes up, I suppose. Seems we'll be taking it easy."
"Noin mentioned to me that someone's organising a game of lawn football a bit later. You might enjoy playing--or watching." The last was directed to the silent Arabian.
"Mm," Quatre said.
Maxwell worried his lower lip between his teeth. "Quatre," he started, then hesitated. "Quatre, you can't do this. You weren't a bad father."
The drooping head snapped up, and the Winner heir waved a hand in an angry gesture. "But I don't know that for sure, do I? All I have is the knowledge that I have a child, and that child hates me! Does it matter if I tried and loved and looked after him? I still failed!"
Heero, leaning against a wall where he could watch the dining room unnoticed, heard Quatre's voice rise, and looked over. No one at that table looked happy.
*He comes into our lives and wreaks havoc trying to prevent havoc,* he mused. *He's not Duo. He's a man who grew up too fast and never had a chance to slow down--and now he's old before his time, and he's on the verge of losing everything he's ever known. Was he the only one who could take on the responsibility of destroying his own time line--and himself? That makes him a saviour--and it makes him absolutely terrifying.*
He heard the light footsteps long before he turned around, and caught the faint scent of perfume that always accompanied *her*. "Relena," he grunted, when her hands slid around his waist from behind, and her head laid against his shoulders.
"You're glowering," she informed him. He heard the smile in the words.
"You shouldn't be here."
"It's only for a few minutes. Walk with me, Heero, please. I've barely seen you since you came back."
Reluctantly he turned, and her delicate hand--*too slender, too smooth*, his mind whispered, remembering another hand that had used to hold his--slid into his. Involuntarily his fingers tightened, and this earned a smile.
Maxwell watched them walk away. He saw Relena smile as Heero took her hand. His chest felt tight, and it twisted something deep inside to see the love in Relena's expression. Heero's face was turned away from his view--just as well. Maxwell couldn't have borne to see that love returned.
He came back to the present as Quatre miserably excused himself, and reached out to catch Quatre's wrist. "It wasn't your fault," he tried again. "It wasn't *anybody's* fault."
"It never is, is it?" The businessman gently removed the Captain's grip, and walked away. Defeated, Maxwell turned back to the table, expecting that Trowa would hurry after his mate--but instead he found startlingly green eyes gazing imperturbably at him.
Softly Trowa Barton said, "Tell *me*."
"The time line--"
"Edit the tale however you please." A slim hand made an all-encompassing gesture. "But tell it. And in return, I'll never speak of it. Not even to him." In Trowa's life, there was only one "him"--and so no further explanation was needed, and no higher promise could have been made. Reluctantly, Maxwell nodded.
Relena stared in surprise as the normally polite Winner heir brushed past them as he stormed past without even a word. Heero, having sensed earlier that something was wrong, stopped her from speaking to him with a small shake of his head.
"Is he all right?" she asked, concerned.
Heero shrugged. Neither Quatre nor his partner confided much in the grim and moody pilot.
Relena stopped walking, and Heero halted as well, turning to face her incuriously. "Something is wrong," she pressed. "Not with Quatre--with you. Tell me."
He blinked, but otherwise his expression didn't change.
"Heero, please... " The Queen took a step toward him, and lifted her hands to gently cup her palm over his cheeks. "Whatever it is, I will help you."
*As I have done my duty to you... *
When no response came, she moved even closer, her intense eyes so serious and her full mouth speaking words that sounded so far away to him. "Heero. When you came back to me three years ago, I knew that it was going to be forever. I know that my childish infatuation was why you stayed away for so long--and why you avoid me so often still. But Heero, I am very grown up now." Her hands slid around his neck, and then all space between them was gone, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. "There are days, my love... days when I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders and I realise the depth of my helplessness to affect change. On those days I think of you, and your spirit gives me strength. There are nights when I think of the suffering that the indecision of the government causes--children going hungry in the streets of the colonies while the Senate debates campaign finance limitations. Those nights, I want to cry; but I think of you, and instead I become filled with resolve to be the best advocate for relief of that suffering that I can be. You do so much for me. So much. Heero, I want to do something in return. Tell me what I could give you, and it will be yours."
He hadn't moved yet to hold her. He did so now, and tilted his head until his lips brushed her ear. "Anything?"
She smiled, and closed her eyes. "Anything, my love."
He was silent for a while. Then--"May I have some time to decide?"
"Take as much time as you need." She lifted her head, and pressed a chaste kiss against his mouth.
He didn't move throughout. When she pulled away, he said, "Thank you, Relena," and turned and walked away, disappearing around a corner.
The young woman lifted a hand to her lips, trying to memorise the taste there. "Heero. Thank *you*." As she headed back to the bowels of her home to get ready for a meeting with a representative of a southern district of Sank, she saw a strange man talking to Trowa Barton at a table not too far away, in the dining room. For a moment, he looked familiar; but then the sense of recognition fled, and she dismissed it from her mind. His jacket proclaimed him a Preventer, and she certainly did not know every Preventer on sight. She should take the time to introduce herself later, though, as his hostess... perhaps at her birthday celebration. Satisfied, Relena headed off to her meeting.
Maxwell was distracted by brief movement, and turned his head to catch a flash of light of dark blonde hair as Relena left the dining hall alone. He hesitated, then turned back to Trowa, who was staring at the table now, his sensual mouth frowning and troubled.
"It was just an affair," the braided man repeated softly. "It didn't mean he loved you any less. But you'd been gone for a long time, and it just--happened. I know for a fact that Quatre felt intensely guilty about it. And he told you right away, coming to Earth to track you down and explain what he'd done in person. And you two patched things up, and I honestly think you were stronger for having been tested like that."
Trowa looked up. "Did he love her?"
"I'm sure he did," Maxwell replied softly. "Otherwise, it would never have happened. Do you think Quatre would risk what he has with you for a one-night stand or a casual fling? Frankly, you were gone a lot. You had both grown apart--talked about taking a 'break' or something. But if you think Quatre did what he did without a very, very good reason, then you're making the same mistake now that you did before--in my time, I mean."
The agate eyes hardened a little. "What was that supposed to mean?"
"It means everyone made mistakes in the matter, Tro. Quatre had an affair, and you judged him for it and never quite trusted him again. And then, when a child came out of it... "
Something flickered in those green depths. "What?"
"Quatre made the decision he thought was best for everyone. He was trying to please you, and keep his obligation to Ella. When she started talking about going to live with her family on L2, he didn't stop her. He just made sure she had everything she needed, and then he stayed out of her life. *And* Shai's."
Trowa was quiet.
"Look," Maxwell said, and leaned forward. "You know now. Nothing is set in stone. If it were, then my plan wouldn't be worth a fig's fart. You know what's coming--and you have the choice of changing the future. Don't *let* him grow away from you. Make him understand how much you love him and don't ever, ever let him go."
"What will happen to Shai Winner?" the elegant pilot asked uncertainly. "To this 'Ella'?"
His answer was a tight smile. "In a couple weeks, we'll never have existed anyway."
Zechs came to their table, dressed casually in slacks and a sweatshirt. Noin, smiling, was at his shoulder, a soccer ball under her arm. "You guys gonna join the game?" she asked.
"No thanks," Maxwell announced. He stood. "I'd like to watch, though. Think I'll find Hirde--if we want to make a claim on the best shady spot, we'll have to beat all the other lazy bums."
Trowa slowly rose. "I'll play," he murmured. He needed time to push away the uncertainty. He didn't have a Gundam handy--fighting had usually done the trick when he wanted to shut that part of his brain off--so some physical activity would have to do.
"Did you hear?" Zechs asked. "Lady Une has graciously planned an intimate group dinner tonight. I'm supposed to deliver the invitation, and the instruction that while formal wear is unnecessary, anyone failing to meet certain standards will be discharged." He grinned.
"A dinner? What for?" They began to head for the exit.
"We're celebrating," Noin informed them. "Sally's pregnant!"
Warm hands slid over her shoulders, followed by a gentle kiss on the neck. "You look stunning, Commander."
"Why, thank you, Captain. This old thing?" Hirde laughed and swirled the borrowed skirt around her slender, firmly muscled legs. Maxwell laughed, and hugged her hard.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, taking a crab cake off her plate and biting into it before she could protest the theft. She nodded absently, and reached out to tweak his collar where it didn't lay properly. He caught her hand, and kissed it. "This is the kind of scene I've always known you'd shine in," he murmured. "You're amazing in battle--but you're a goddess in a dress, Hirde."
She smirked at the flattery, knowing by now that no matter how deeply he meant the words, she'd only be hurt if she allowed herself to take them as more than friendship.
Then Hirde saw Maxwell's eyes move beyond her, and soften--and she instinctively knew who her Captain was looking at. She drew a breath that pained her only a little.
"Go," she murmured. "You only get a few more weeks to be with him, Duo."
He shook his head, bangs sweeping to hide his eyes. "No. I shouldn't. I blew all my chances years ago, Hirde... "
"If you don't go to him, Duo Maxwell, I'll never forgive you. I didn't love you from afar for all these years just to watch you make my restraint utterly worthless." She took his face between her hands, and kissed him gently. "Go," she commanded. "Before I cry, Duo."
He kissed her again. "You know I lo--"
"I know. *Go,* Duo." Hirde drew back and wiped her eyes. Maxwell slowly nodded; and then he steeled himself, and walked to where Heero Yuy stood at the punch table.
"Good evening," he said, evenly, reaching to pick up a glass.
Heero nodded. "Good evening, Maxwell."
"You look terrific." The older man's eyes skipped over him. Heero felt unexpectedly pleased, and a little embarrassed. Maxwell looked good, too. Time had taken a large toll on him, and it showed in the lines around the eyes and the grief that tugged at the thin-lipped mouth--but he was still Duo, and the outside had never mattered anyway, in the end.
The same heart was showing in the startlingly violet eyes. The same unwavering love.
Heero took a gulp of his punch, wishing it were spiked. *Relena... I'm sorry. This is something I have to do.* He drained the glass and reached for a refill. Maxwell wasn't saying anything. This was dragging out too long! "Shit," he muttered. Bracing himself, as he'd never had to do when facing unbeatable odds on the battlefield, he asked, "Do you want to go somewhere and talk?" and braced himself again against the swift pain that accompanied the inevitable end of that question. "I think I'd like to know you before you--go."
Maxwell nodded. "I'd like that very much," he managed huskily. His hand brushed Heero's sleeve. "Thank you for saying that. It means a lo--"
"Hush," Heero interrupted. He gestured to the stairs, and they began to climb. Hesitantly, when their arms brushed again, he let his hand fall and his fingers slide over Maxwell's, then grip. He tried to ignore the fluttering of eyelashes that hid violet orbs, suddenly damp with tears that the Captain was trying hard to suppress. Heero bit his lip. Had he really hurt Duo that much, when he'd left?
He took them to his own room at the end of the hallway, and slowly locked the door behind him--he told himself it was to prevent anyone, especially Relena, walking in and overhearing any security-sensitive discussion. He knew he was lying.
Maxwell was drawn, as he always seemed to be, to the nearest window. "You know," the Captain was murmuring, "there's nothing green in Space. It's not the same in video capture, you know. You can't smell it on a screen, can't get that feeling that if you just reach out, you can run your fingers through that cool, rich colour... It's so--relaxing."
Heero was suddenly swept up in the memory of the first time he had touched Duo's hair. That thick, silky hair, damp from a recent shower--Duo had stood looking into his eyes as Heero dragged his callused fingers through that mass that smelled like wind and boy and shampoo--and then Duo had kissed him softly and told him that any time he wanted to touch it, it was all right. Special permission, just for Heero.
Maxwell turned to look at him. It was very dim in the room, but the man's eyes reflected the splintered rays of light from the setting sun.
"I know why you left me," he said. "But tell me now how you could stand to do it."
"It broke my heart."
"Bullshit!" Maxwell took a step toward him. "You just closed it off, the way you shut out anything you didn't want to deal with."
"You think it didn't hurt me?" Heero gestured around him to the empty room. "I never belonged here! But I made a promise to Relena. To Relena's *peace.* To protect it. And I couldn't do that while I was with you!"
"Why!"
Something pricked the back of his eyes. Heero ignored it, but it was sliding down his cheeks now, hot against his skin. "Because--as long as I was with you, all of my consciousness would be centered on you. There wouldn't have been any room for duty. That's what made you so dangerous. You made me forget that anything else existed but us."
Maxwell's face twisted as he struggled to control himself. His fists were clenched at his sides, trembling. "I've spent my life wondering what I did to push you away," he managed. "I thought--What the hell did you do to deserve this kind of love? I couldn't even hate you. I wanted to hate you so badly, and I couldn't. And then you died--you died and even then I couldn't stop loving you! You see, Heero, for me, it was different. You were what made the rest of the universe worth caring about. Without us, without you in my life--nothing else was *complete.* It was there, and maybe more important--but my world always began and ended with *you.*"
"How did I die?"
The sudden change in subject threw Maxwell. "What?" he said dumbly.
"I want to know. How did I die?"
"It doesn't matter!" The older man slammed a fist into his other palm. "Heero--"
"*Tell me!*" Heero crossed the space between them in less than a second, and grabbed the lapels of the Captain's jacket, shaking him slightly. "You *can't* tell me, can you? Why? Was it that awful? Did it even really happen or have you been lying to me all this time?"
"I never lie!" Maxwell hissed. "I never lie and I damn sure didn't lie about losing the only person I've ever loved so fucking much that it twisted my heart to see you lying in your own blood--you--" He shuddered violently, and shook his head. "You bastard. Let me go. Let me go or--"
"Or what?" Heero was breathing hard, his face inches from Maxwell's, his hands trembling with the force of his... his emotion. The feelings that he'd tried to bury and burn from existence for three miserable years.
Maxwell lifted his head. "Or kiss me."
End Part 8
(:./erin/break8)
