Chapter 1
Author: DarkStar
I’m different.
I glance over at Heero. He is across from me, eyeing the nails he has driven into the
wall with a critical eye, one of those board’s you use to put bulletins and
notes on leaning against his legs.
After another second of intense concentration his back relaxes as he
crouches down to pick up the board and lift it up onto the nails. He adjusts it a moment, then steps back, the
board hanging straight on the wall now.
Heero picks up the hammer and the small box of nails and places it back
in the toolbox at his side.
I’m hiding something about myself.
I look back to the window, where my attention had
been focused just moments before. The
ground outside is covered in a light snow, a white blanket reaching back to the
thick green trees. The snow seems so
perfect resting against the ground, the waning light of the sun making it
reflect just enough to capture the eye.
Out of the corner of my eye I pick up the tracks that we made getting
here to the cabin, first of the jeep, and then of our feet as we moved up to
the steps. That breaks the perfection.
I have a secret, even bigger than the obvious of
being a gundam pilot.
I look again to Heero. He has placed neat stacks of papers on the small coffee table,
covering most of its area; the majority of them printed sheets or
diagrams. He has turned his back on
them for the moment, hanging something next to the board that looks like a
heavy cloth. My hand reaches out and adjusts
one of the stacks of paper so that it is no longer at an angle in relation to
the others. My hand does this very
carefully, the lightest tap, because I know from experience that anything more
can throw it in the other direction, or the action might touch another pile,
which puts that out of place, and then suddenly I’m on my knees, shuffling and
placing the papers over and over again until I’m exhausted from the mental
effort.
I clasp my hands together and look back out the
window, away from what Heero’s doing.
Even in this I’m careful, the way I’m sitting and the way my hands are
interlaced, the exact position that my arms are resting against my body. This comes from experience as well.
The other pilots don’t know, probably don’t even
suspect. I’m just neurotic, neurotic
Duo Maxwell. That’s fine by me…by us.
I can feel Heero’s eyes on me, questioning even
though I know if I turn and look they’ll still be cool and detached. I know that look; I’ve seen it on my own
face before in the mirror. I know what
he’s thinking, or I have a rather good idea of what it might be. He’s wondering why I’m not chattering away,
why I’m not bugging the hell out of him, touching and talking and ‘helping’
out. It’s out of character. But today I’m out of character.
There’s something wrong with me.
Heero kneels by the table, picking up one of the
stacks of paper, and moving over to the board.
He begins to carefully and precisely place the papers up in an order he
has already determined, making efficient use of the limited space. For that I am thankful. He repeats the process for each small stack
of papers, and then begins to unroll the two maps he brought. I turn fully to watch this, swinging my legs
out to settle squarely on the worn but well kept carpet. The maps go onto the cloth, pinned in every
3cm or so.
I’m serious, there’s something wrong with me. I’m not just saying that my mood is off or
that I’m having a bad day and can’t figure out why, although that former part
is somewhat correct.
Heero checks his watch, and then goes to work on the
second map, repeating the process undertaken with the first. It’s almost fascinating to watch.
I can think of more fascinating things though…
“Duo. Don’t just stare at me stupidly, do
something.”
I sigh and pick up the duffel bag that I’ve brought
with me, kicking the smaller second one between my feet as I walk down the
hall. A part of me protests at this
action, the haphazardness of it, but I ignore it as best as I can. The first door comes up on my right, worn
with age and partially open, revealing the room inside.
I push the door open fully, reaching out to flick on
the light. In the center and against
the wall there is the bed, covered with a faded dark blue blanket. Beside that stands a small wood table, a
lamp sitting on it and off to the side.
A desk almost directly across from me, pushed against the wall, a fine
layer of dust covering its surface, and likewise the surface of the other
things in the room.
Ignoring that I place the large bag directly inside
the door, against the wall, touching the sides with my foot to make it as
straight and lined up as I possibly can, and then I place the second bag on top
of the first. Surveying the room I move
over to the only window and pull up the shade, greeted with the soothing sight
of unmolested snow, pushing the window itself up I lean against the sill a
moment, breathing in the fresh cool air, and when I move away I leave it up
hoping the stale air will seep out.
First order of business is the bed, so that I have a
‘safe’ place in the room to start with.
Taking my jacket off I fold it slowly and place it atop the two stacked
bags. Moving to the bed I begin the
systematic process of rolling up the cover that is over it until I have a
little bundle that I place on the carpet at the food of the bed. That would be all right for now; it wasn’t
in my workstation. Then the sheets
which I strip off the bed, careful not to shake them even though in my heart I
know there really can’t be any dust on them, waiting to attack. I smile slightly at that as I work with the
pillowcases, folding them and placing them on top of the sheets, which in turn
were placed on the rolled cover.
After that I lift the edge of the mattress, this as
silent and efficient as every other action taken this far. Pulling the mattress toward me I slide it
back some on its frame, not looking down to see if the frame shows the floor
under the bed or not. With ease I lower
the mattress down onto the other side, and push it in place. I move to the smaller bag, listening for
sounds out of the ordinary from Heero out in the front room and finding nothing
to arouse my suspicion. Dialing in the
combination on the lock on the bag I pull the zipper back and remove several
carefully wrapped packages, laying them on top of one another in a certain
order over my jacket, and then I produce a small pocketknife to open the right
side of the first.
What comes out is a cotton liner for the mattress,
which I carefully lift out and open after checking to make sure my hands
haven’t picked anything up from all the stuff I’ve been doing since the last
time I washed them. Still clean I
decide. Moving over I settle this in
place, tucking only minimally so that it fits tightly as it should. Next come the sheets, a midnight blue, these
in place of the one’s I stripped from the bed originally. The other things will wait, I decide, until
I shake out the pillows.
Picking each up by the corner I move from the room
quietly, walking directly past Heero without even glancing over, and from the
corner of my eye I see him look up at me to see where I am headed. I open the door, leaving it open as I move
down the three steps off the small porch to shake the pillows out, and then I
come inside, closing the door with a tap from my foot. Past Heero again, who in his interest hasn’t
bother to look down, and as I move back to the room I’ve claimed I feel his
eyes on me with each step.
I turn into the room and silently close the door and
twist the lock.
Like some dirty secret, huh?
I swallow, suddenly nervous and unsure, and rub my
palms against my pants until I can feel the burn of the continuous energy
creating heat friction and I bring my hands back. My arm hurts again, a dull throbbing ache, but that I ignore as
well as I place the pillows on the bed, side by side, and bring out the
pillowcases.
Less than two minutes pass and I have the bed made
again, I’ve searched the closet looking for a blanket that has been hidden
under others long enough that dust hasn’t touched it, shaken it out all the
same, and then placed this on the bed, tucking and smoothing until I can place
the bags and jacket on the bed.
A safe zone.
I perch on the edge of the bed, surveying the room
with a weary sigh. Every move is made
natural to me through habit, but I never enjoy doing this work, creating this
breeding ground for the insanity that has become my life. But I have no choice.
None at all.
If I don’t do it the consequences will be harsh.
But harsher than the action.
Yes.
I push away from the bed, wanting nothing more to
leave the room and settle myself elsewhere, doing nothing at all. If my arm had been hurting before, now I was
miserable, every movement sending a shock of pain through my system.
Too deep.
Too soon. This is dangerous.
I force away those thoughts as I move to the desk,
surveying it’s top. A light film of
dust covers it, telling the tale of several years gone by without a visitor to
settle upon its surface. I step away
from it, to the door, which I unlock and exit, moving to the kitchen. There should be something in the small room
that I can clean with, and I am rewarded with a small cupboard devoted entirely
to cleaning supplies.
I wish that didn’t bring such relief.
Pulling out the few I can carry I pass Heero, who
has now given me his undivided attention, such are the peculiarities of my
actions. I place these things inside of
the door of the room and move to the hall closet, bringing out the vacuum
cleaner. I look to Heero with a
smile. “I spilled something.”
“All ready?” he asks, irritated, no doubt disgusted
by that fact. Here not ten minutes and
I’ve already made a mess.
If only he knew…
I force a nod and turn back to the room, moving more
quickly than I had before, and soon I feel that everything that can be cleaned
has been. Already the room looks more
inviting, and the stale air has been replaced.
Now its time to set up. From the smaller bag I pull out a stack of beaten mangas that
have been placed in a zipper baggy to keep them together and assure their
safety in case I should meet adverse conditions. After that a video game, another plastic bag for the same
reason. These are set on the table next
to the lamp. A new notebook, as of this
moment still unopened, and a small package of pens join the other items. In the center of the bed, right between the
two pillows I place a beaten and worn teddy bear, a patch to keep the stuffing
in on its stomach and missing an eye.
These items taken care of I bring out two books, one
on some sort of marine science and the other a serious study on the possibility
of extraterrestrial life. These go in
the table’s cubby, a gun propped up against them, hidden from view.
I pull one of the last items out of the bag and
settle back against the pillows, snapping the headphones on and hitting the
play on the CD player.
That wonderful escape of music greets me and I
slowly begin to relax, drowning out the commotion that is ever present.
//Sitting on the bed, or lying wide awake, there’s
demons in my head and it’s more than I can take, I think I’m on a roll and I
think it’s kind of weak, saying all I know is I gotta get away from me//
Just as I’m beginning to drift away comfortably,
lost in my music, a loud knock on the door startles me from my peace. I jump, reaching out and smacking the CD
player to shut it up, and listen just to make sure I’m not imagining it.
It wouldn’t be a first.
It comes again, this time much louder, or perhaps it
was that loud to begin with and the music blasting dulled the sound.
I push the CD player aside and swing my legs over
the bed, move to the door on socked feet.
No shoes allowed…
I open the door slightly, peeking out, and I’m
greeted by the special scowl that Heero seems to hold for me. I widen my eyes slightly, not sure if I can
trust my words to not betray me just yet, and give him a look of ‘yeah, whatta
ya want?’
“The other two are here, and I need to put my stuff
away. We’re bunking together.”
Dread settles as a block of ice in my stomach.
“What? The
other two are in on this?” I ask numbly, mouth working as if it were stuffed
full of cotton.
The usual hum in my mind has gone silent.
“Yes,” Heero answered in that precise, clipped tone
that he adopted when he felt that someone was ill informed by fault of his or
her own. I scowled, gripping the door
tighter. “Why wasn’t I told?”
“You weren’t sent the necessary information?”
Apparently not.
“No.”
How unorganized.
“Yes, a second part has been added to our directive,
and because of that we can no longer carry this out on our own. We should be here a week together, it’s
something that cannot be changed and therefore is non-debatable. Would you open
the door so I’m not standing in the hall with my bag?”
I swallowed, the soft hum returning slowly. I gave a slight nod and held a finger up to
tell him ‘give me a moment’, and close the door, twisting the lock. I pick up the teddy bear and toss it into the
small bag, eyes darting around the room to make sure that I’ve gotten the rest
of the stuff that would seem out of character.
I wince as Heero tries the door, finally coming to
impatience for my actions, and I move back over, unlocking it and stepping away,
toward the bed.
He comes in, scowling even more, and I wonder if it
was worth putting the bear away. I
can’t be sure.
Which is the lesser of two evils?
I give a mental sigh.
Heero’s eyes take in the room, the uncanny awareness
of his surrounding remind me of a hawk stalking his prey. I try to look nonchalant, bringing the tip
of my braid around to brush it lightly over my lips, looking up at the ceiling.
His eyes narrow.
“Conference, now. You’re lacking
in information that you need to have, from now on I suggest you keep yourself
better up to date.” He tosses his bag on the bed and moves out of the room.
I stare after him long after he has gone, trying not
to frown.
Great, you’ve blown it. If anything goes wrong in the mission it’s your entire fault
now. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Can’t you do anything right?
“Shut up,” I growled, glancing around the room one
last time. There is tightness in my
chest as I click off the light.
Can we survive?
No. He
fucked this one up, he did, he did, he did.
Just sit back and watch it all tumble around us…
Why do you sound so happy about this?
“I said shut up.”
Make me...
Can you make me?
No, you can't... and you know it.
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Author’s notes: Please review, I need to know what
you think about this. I know, some of you might have it, the others might not,
and some might suspect, I won’t be giving anymore away by telling anything, but
I need something to go on before I continue this. This is harder to write than
the others I have written for reasons I’m sure will become known soon enough. I
need all the support I can get, thank you all very much for the support I have
gotten already on the other things I have written. Nothing is more gratifying
to me than to hear that you’ve liked what I’ve written and why. ^_^ Darkstar