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"Grounded"Written By: ExecutiveShrimp Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, it belongs
to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. Written for pleasure not
profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: unbeta'd, sexual, violent content (graphic,
at times). Pairings: 2x1 Summary: A Preventer mission goes horribly wrong. Co-captains Duo and Heero both survive, but as changed men, and they have to rebuild their lives from the ground up.
"Grounded" Part XV – Heero's POV "Hiroka Maxwell," the instructor barked, reading the name off the clipboard in his hands and then pinpointing the new recruit in the line-up. Heero saluted and announced: "Present." The instructor continued to call out names, a total of nineteen. They were class 4B and it was their first day of training for the Preventer Qualifying test, consisting of twelve disciplines – colloquially referred to as The Twelve. All the recruits had previously passed their other courses at the Academy, after four years of studying and now only The Twelve stood between them and becoming Preventer field agents. The tall, broad man, with shaved head, wearing a black military uniform walked back and forth along the line-up. "I see a lot of new faces," he said, in that exaggerated, commanding tone of voice of his, "but also some familiar mugs. Some of which I'd rather not see at all. But that's life, isn't it? You don't always get what you want. Let's meet our repeaters." He held up his list of names and started: "Jacob Tempe." "Yes, Sir." "How many times did you already fail The Twelve?" "Twice, Sir," he answered curtly. The instructor went through eight more names, concluding with: "Mister Niko Kaleida!" With a devilish smirk he came to stand in front of the young man standing to Heero's right. Niko Kaleida was short and slight. He had black hair and a face that sported freckles and an uncertain, intimidated expression. He couldn't meet the instructors gaze as he responded: "Yes, Sir?" "Oh, little Niko…" the instructor sighed condescendingly. "Please tell the group how many times you've taken The Twelve." Niko shifted self-consciously. His voice was weak as he replied: "F-Five times, Sir." The instructor leaned in and cupped his hand around his ear. "I'm sorry, what? Speak up please, for the cheap seats in the back." "Five times, Sir!" "You've taken The Twelve five times," he repeated. "And how many times did you fail?" Heero tightened his mouth. The answer was obvious. The instructor was just bullying the young recruit. "Five times, Sir!" "Yes," the man nodded. "You've tried and failed five times. The official record is seven. Is that your ambition, Mister Kaleida? To fail seven times- or rather: eight, I suppose, if you want to beat the record." "No, Sir." The instructor sighed. "Why won't you just give up, Kaleida?" The recruit took a deep breath and said poignantly: "I'm not a quitter, Sir." "No, you're not," the instructor readily agreed. "You're just a loser." Some of the others chuckled at the biting remark and Niko bowed his head at the humiliation. Heero clenched his jaw shut to refrain himself from speaking up. He had no authority here. At the Academy, he was just another recruit. Nobody knew who he was, nor what happened to him to drive him here. He just wanted to fly under the radar and train so he could pass the testing and assert his rightful place in the Agency again. "Now, newbies, make no mistake. Many of you will end up as repeaters as well," the instructor bellowed, moving along the line with his hands folded behind his back. "Some of you might even retake and fail the test as often as mister Kaleida, but most will drop out long before then. In the end, only ten percent of you pussies will pass The Twelve and be initiated as field agents. The rest of you will get assigned your own little cubicle, or you can refuse the offer of a desk-job within the Agency and then you've just wasted the past four years of your life, and you'll be flipping burgers to try to pay off your student debt. Understood?" "Yes, Sir!" The class replied in unison. They were told to grab the equipment that was laid out on the ground and carry it to the track where they would start their training with a run. The instructor walked ahead, his back and shoulders stiff, his strides large. The rest followed and already cliques were forming within the group as people naturally gravitated towards each other and started up subdued conversations about their hellish instructor. Heero kept to himself. He had no interest in making friends; friends had the tendency to pry and the whole point of him coming to the Academy to train, as opposed to staying on Earth, was so he could keep the state of his body a secret. He didn't want any special treatment – he had never found it helpful, in any point of his life. He followed the group, carrying pads they would use for combat training later on in the day. By the third lap around the track, he was trailing behind. Everyone was running in step with the instructor, who gradually increased the speed after each go-round and Heero could no longer keep up. The legs were pulling on his thighs and hips. The pain in his toe had him stumbling a few times, further adding to the distance between himself and the rest of the recruits. But he wasn't alone. Running two steps behind him was Niko Kaleida. Heero could hear the young man's heaving breaths, even over his own harsh panting. He shot a look over his shoulder at the twenty-something-year-old man – who looked like a boy to Heero, even though he had only just turned twenty-three himself. His face was read and sweat plastered his black hair to his forehead. His gaze was focused on the ground, but he didn't seem entirely present. His eyes were distant and clouded. Heero looked back up ahead, at the rest of the group that was far away from them. Niko was definitely going to pass out and Heero didn't want to have to deal with it, but the others were too far away to notice the state the black-haired boy was in. Before long, Heero heard a thud and a grunt behind him and when he looked over his shoulder he spotted the slight body laying sprawled on the ground. Grumbling under his breath he slowed to a halt and he clutched his sides as if that would alleviate the stinging pain. He walked back over to the fallen recruit and crouched down next to him to roll him over and check his pulse. In the distance, the instructor blew his whistle, drawing Heero's attention. The group was on the far end, opposite the grass field in the middle of the oval track and from there the instructor had finally noticed that two of the recruits hadn't been able to keep up. He had the group continue their run and then the big man came jogging across the field, just as Niko was starting to come to. The boy slowly sat up with a confused look in his eyes. His expression turned frightened when the instructor kneeled down and checked him over. Once he confirmed the recruit was fine, he said: "Well, that's a new low, Kaleida. Fainting, really?" He rose to his feet and put his hands on his hips. Heero decided to help Niko up from the ground, but he didn't like how the boy kept holding onto him for balance once they were standing up. He tried leaning away, but Niko kept his arm around Heero's shoulders. "And what's your excuse?" The instructor demanded, looking at the Japanese man. "Why were you straggling?" "Just tired, Sir." "Great. So I have two duds in the class. Well, I guess it's better that way. You two can babysit each other." The rest of the group came jagging past them, some studying the scene quizzically, others grinning. "We will finish our laps, you two girls can set up the pylons on the field. We'll be running agility drills after this. The schematic for the pylons is on the sheet on my clipboard," the instructor pointed at the pile of equipment they had gathered. "I trust that isn't too much of a challenge for you two to manage?" "No, Sir," they both replied. Niko's voice was weak, Heero had trouble hiding his indignation. "Good." The instructor caught up with the group and reassuming his position at the head of the pack and increased their pace again. Heero shook Niko's arm off his shoulder and started for the center of the field. "Thanks for looking out for me," Niko said, falling in step behind him. "Whatever." "I don't want you to think I'm weak or anything. I have Andrew-Lichs," he disclosed offhandedly. "The medication helps, but I get tired more easily, you know? I can't really train for too long, so I can't build my muscle strength." Heero stopped and turned around to look at him. His intimidating stare made Niko freeze up. Andrew-Lichs was a pretty serious subtype of muscular dystrophy, Heero knew. Up until fifty years ago it used to be a fatal condition: individuals died of heart failure in early childhood. Medical breakthroughs allowed sufferers not only to survive, but keep most of the symptoms under control, however, the illness was still marked by overall physical weakness, especially in the upper arms and lower legs. The Preventer Agency maintained no rules that prohibited anyone with a physical or mental disability to enroll in the Academy and apply for the status of field agent; as long as the individual was able to pass The Twelve, they were allowed to become Preventer agents. In most cases, however, people with medical conditions did not make the cut because the tests were too challenging. Heero was about to advise Niko to give up on his pursuit of becoming a field agents, just like the instructor had, since the odds were so overwhelmingly stacked in his favor. But then he remembered his own physical condition and everyone telling him that he'd be better of resigning to his fate and accepting his limitations. He kept his mouth shut and spun back around, continuing on his path towards the equipment. "Huh…" Niko scrambled after him and came to walk alongside him. "You're the first person not to tell me to quit after I told them I'm sick," he stated. "Hn." Heero bent over to reach for the instructor's clipboard and leafed to the page with the schematic to set up the pylons for the agility drills. "… Why?" Heero didn't answer. He grabbed the closest stack of bright orange pylons and went to set them up. Niko followed behind closely and when Heero stopped dead in his tracks, the boy bumped into him and laughed sheepishly when he came to face him. "Sorry." He scratched the back of his neck. "Seriously though… Why? Maybe you don't know what Andrew-Lichs is?" "I know what it is," he huffed indignantly. "Okay." Niko quirked an eyebrow at him. Heero sighed irritably and threw his gaze up at the gray sky. "Do you believe you can do this?" "Yes," the boy said with a determined nod. "Then no one has the right to tell you you can't," he declared and then side-stepped around him and proceeded with placing the pylons in the short grass according to the schematic. Niko seemed baffled by the matter-of-fact statement and it took him a moment before he thought to help out, grabbing a stack of pylons himself. "You're a very intimidating guy, you know that, Hiroka?" He responded dryly: "So I've been told." "But you're actually pretty nice, aren't you?" Heero straightened up and fixed his gaze on the other. Niko held his stare and squirmed for a moment, but then, all of a sudden, he gave a toothy smile. "Yeah, I knew it." And then he wordlessly continued with his chore. During the agility drills, Niko fared better than he did on the track, but Heero's struggle continued. The quick side-stepping movements had him tripping over his own feet. Several times he couldn't regain his balance and he dropped into the grass with a grunt. It was jarring for him to be pegged as the runt of the litter, when he was used to nothing short of superiority and excellence of himself. The instructor allowed the other recruits to make of him as he must have seemed very clumsy to them. While it was hard on his ego, he preferred it to being babied, the way he was treated on L1. So his suffered their insults in silent and just picked himself back up every time, dusted the wet grass off his palms with his shirt and continued on. They wrapped up the day with some kickboxing exercises and sparring sessions. Heero's balance was still an issue, so when it was his turn to kick the pad held up by the instructor, he either fell again, missed the target or had his kick land only weakly. More mockery ensued. "I'd say you kick like a girl, Maxwell," the instructor called as Heero moved to the back of the line again, "but that would be an insult to the ladies we have with us in this class." The four women turned and grinned at him cockily. Niko was in front of him and the shorter boy turned around and said: "Don't worry, it's only your first day." With a grimace Heero ignored the boy's attempt at encouragement. When it was time to spar, everyone was paired off and they would rotate partners. Heero and Niko got paired together first. Everyone donned the fingerless gloves and them combatted their opponents. Heero studied their amateurish moves before Niko demanded his attention. The freckle-faced recruit awkwardly held his fists in front of his face, blocking most of his vision. He stood bent at the knee, which was proper, but he shifted his weight between his feet too much and every time he did Heero could discern a point where he could easily throw him off balance. Niko inched closer to him, apprehensive about attacking him even though, as far as this frail boy was concerned, Heero was the weakest link in the group. The former Gundam pilot cocked his head at the other's hesitant approach. When he threw the first punch, Heero caught his fist and with a swipe of his foot he had Niko falling backwards on his ass. Wide, dark eyes blinked up at him. "Up. Again," Heero groused. He scrambled up on his feet and tried the exact same attack. That time, Heero grabbed the hand and with a twist of his wrist he had the boy spun around, with his hand pinned behind his back. A nudge against the back of his knees was all it took to have the boy sagging to the ground again. He took care to never really hurt him, since there was no need. Niko got up again and looked at him with a comically exaggerated frown. He brought up his hands again in a defensive position. "Not that high," Heero corrected. "You still want to actually be able to see your opponent." He lowered his fists as instructed. "Go ahead." He motioned for him to try again. Niko attempted the exact same, right handed blow and his eyes went wide as he was stopped just as easily and forced back down to the ground in submittal. "Lowering my fists didn't help at all," he whined as he got back up. "Yes it did, this time you could see me owning you. That's the first step." "How come you're so good at this? Did you take the Advanced hand-to-hand combat classes at the Academy?" "… Sure." Niko quirked an eyebrow. "… Grew up in a tough neighborhood too." Niko snorted. "Alright. Can you teach me how to get better?" Heero eyed the instructor, who wasn't paying the two of them any attention, but focusing on the other students instead. "That's not my job." "Please?" He signed and consented: "I'll try." "Time's up!" The instructor bellows. "Switch partners." He called out names as he made new pairings. "Maxwell, you're with Sloan." A golden-haired man with a superhero jaw smirked at Heero and walked up to him with a cocky swagger to his step. Niko skittered off to face someone else. Even with his new, longer legs, Sloan still towered over Heero. He was much broader too, but Heero wasn't intimidated. Sloan tried jabbing at him with the heel of his palm, but Heero twisted his upper body to avoid the blow and smacked his hand up against the underside of the outstretched forearm. The sting had Sloan pulling his hand back, as expected. A smarter fighter wouldn't have pulled his hand back after getting it into someone's personal space before landing a blow. If he had thought to swipe his arm to the left, he would have clocked Heero against the side of his head. Sloan grinned. "Alright, so you got some spunk in you." Heero refused to engage him verbally and instead just waited. He knew better than to assume an offensive strategy. He rather held his position and stayed with his feet firmly planted on the ground. He didn't want to give the big bully the chance to abuse his balance issues. He was thrown another punch and he caught the fist and held it long enough to leave his left side defenseless while Heero reached out, grabbed a handful of flesh at his side and rolled his fingers into his palm, squeezing the flesh like a vice. It was only a brief grab before he let go of the bigger recruit, but it had the blonde doubling over in pain as it aggravated a pressure point in his side. Sloan got angry and that only made it easier for Heero to deflect his punches as he became more imprecise and acting on instinct made him predictable. Heero became aware that Sloan's frustrated grunting and yelling had earned them an audience. Everyone was gathered around them in a circle and giggling at Sloan's failed attempts to land even one blow. Meanwhile, Heero was making the other cry out in pain with minimal effort; pinching and hitting pressure points in his elbow and under his jaw and jabbing once at his sternum which left the blonde gasping for air. "Looks like you aren't useless after all, Maxwell," the instructor commanded. In a last ditch attempt to win back his dignity, Sloan kicked his foot against Heero's shin. Whereas Heero felt nothing, Sloan fell to the ground, clutching his foot. "You imbecile." The instructor stepped in and helped him back on his feet. "You don't kick with your tippy-toes, you kick with the side or the top of your foot." He waved two others over and they each supported one side of Sloan and helped him limp to the infirmary to make sure he didn't break his toe. Which he probably had, since he had kicked his toes against a carbon fiber and titanium leg. The instructor shot a confused look Heero's way and then announced: "Class dismissed. Clean up this mess and go hit the showers. I'll see you back here tomorrow, kiddies." The crowd dispersed and everyone grabbed as much as they could carry and walked it back over to the buildings on the far end of the training field. Niko came to walk beside Heero. "That was awesome," he exclaimed. "Hn." "Can you teach me to be just as good as you?" "No." Definitely not. "Well, I guess I'll take what I can get… Do you wanna go out for a bite? Or a drink?" "No." "What about coffee?" He tried excitedly. "Coffee is 'a drink'," Heero deadpanned. Niko's pace slowed. "… God, you're cool," he breathed in awe. Every day was more or less the same as that first day. Heero struggled to complete exercises he used to consider unchallenging. Niko hung around him like an excitable puppy. And the instructor and everyone else gave them both grief about their performance falling short of the norm. In the evenings, Heero trained on the obstacle course by himself, until Niko figured out what he was doing and started joining him. There was just no getting rid of the kid and Heero couldn't stand being witness to his silly mistakes, so he gave him pointers to improve his performance in all disciplines of The Twelve. Niko wasn't very strong, but with the right techniques he wouldn't need to be to pass most of the disciplines. On the obstacle course, the black-haired recruit faced the same struggles as Heero did. Neither of them could get over the vertical wall and it took them both forever to climb up the net. After some time, running became easier for him. His strength increased and he had gotten used to the new weight and feel of his legs. He found his stride and he was able to keep up with the rest of the group, even if he was trailing at the back, right next to Niko. On the obstacle course, however, even after months of training, he still experienced little progress. It was like there was a delay between the command of his brain and the reaction of his feet. He miss-stepped and slipped constantly and his movements were hopelessly uncoordinated during the hundred meter tiger crawl through the mud, under a web of barbed wire. Even though Niko had gotten much better and only the wall still stopped him from being able to complete the course, the young recruit never left Heero's side, slowing his pace so they could tackle each obstacle together. The wall they were both allowed to circumvent, for the time being. They both reached the end, their finish time several minutes behind the rest of the group. Heero sat down in the mud and dug the heel of his palm into the top of his shoe, trying to get his toe to stop hurting. The stinging pain shot up his entire leg and he had felt himself cramping up with each step, only making his movements that much more imprecise. "Are you okay?" Niko asked. "Did you bang your foot into something?" "It's fine," he huffed. He appreciated Niko's concerned. The boy was grateful for the way Heero had helped him improve and was just trying to repay him with kindness, but he didn't want the kid to start butting into his business and grow to pity him the way everyone on L1 did. "Maxwell," the instructor barked, stalking over to him, "are you injured?" "No, Sir." "Then get up. We're going to run through the course one more time. Come on." He heaved a sigh and pushed himself up from the ground. They walked back to the start. The heavy rain was beating down on their shoulders. The wood of all the obstacles was slippery, making each run-through even more exhausting. "You shouldn't wait for me," Heero told Niko. "You need to work on your time." "Why? I'm never going to be able to make it over that wall anyway…" he replied morosely. The recruits were allowed to help each other get over certain obstacles, even during the official testing. The Twelve are designed to simulate conditions in the field and since agents never go out into the field alone, they are allowed to help each other. Heero wanted to be able to do it by himself, like he always had, but he had accept that, for the first time, he had to rely on someone else to complete the course. It's going to cost them a ten second penalty though, and, at the moment, they are already coming it at half a minute longer than the allotted time on the course. "When the time comes, we can help each other get over the wall," he said. No one else was going to help them. "I'll give you a boost and then you pull me up. But for now, we both need to work on improving our individual time. As it is, we wouldn't reach the finish in time anyway – wall or no wall." Niko smiled, excited by the prospect of their teamwork. They made it back to the starting line and when the instructor shouted "Go" everyone sprinted towards the first obstacle. Heero grunted as Sloan, the big blonde, elbowed him out of his way, already causing him to fall behind on the rest. The first obstacle was a foursome of logs at different heights that they have to jump over. Heero timed his footsteps perfectly to help him hop over relatively easily. His body connected with one of the higher horizontal logs more forcefully than he was used to in his prime and it knocked the wind out of him, but he rolled off on the other side and continued on. Niko was behind him at that point, because the recruit didn't time his steps and ended up having to shorten his step on his approach, hampering his forward momentum as he half-jumps and half-climbs over the logs. Next was the log climb; a diagonal rack of timbers. He scrambled up to the top and jumped back down to the bottom easily, as the obstacle didn't require much finesse from his lower body. On the landing, his big toe protested and he limped his first few steps before getting his stride back. After the tunnel crawl, the stutter-step tires, the monkey bars, the rope wall, the side-way wall traverse, the cargo-net climb and the rope swing, where he had to stick the landing on one end of a fifteen foot balance beam and then make his way to the other end, he was only halfway down the course and had been left behind by everyone else, including Niko. However, as he came up on the vertical wall, he spotted the black-haired recruit waiting for him. Heero growled under his breath. "I told you to just go around and work on your time." "No, we're helping each other," the younger one decided and he gets in position to give Heero a boost, but Heero couldn't risk him noticing anything about his legs, so he ordered them to switch position. Heero leaned his back against the wall and sunk through his knees. He cradled his palms in front of him, lacing the fingers together, creating a step-up for the other. Niko backed up to give himself room for a running start and Heero reminded him to calculate his steps beforehand, so he won't have to shorten his last few steps on the approach. Niko heeded the advice and came sprinting towards him. He planted the ball of his foot in Heero's palms and Heero raised himself up to push the other recruit as high as possible. Niko managed to grab the top ledge of the panel wall and hoisted himself up. Once he was straddling the top, he secured himself and dangled one arm down, with his fingers outstretched. Heero jumped up to grab him with his right hand and he was pulled up until he could clasp the fingers of his left hand over the top. As he pulled himself up, he kicked his feet looking for purchase on the side of the wall and he winced as it further aggravated the pain in his toe. When he jumped down to the other side, his knees collapsed under him at the sharp pain that passed through him like lightning and had his muscles cramping up. Niko grabbed him and helped him up to his feet, ignoring the Japanese man's protests. "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," he grunted and he swatted the boy's hands away. He gritted his teeth and pushed on, trying not to let the knowledge that getting over the wall cost them too much time, in addition to the ten second penalty, discourage him. There were more balance obstacles up ahead and those had been one of many struggles for him. First, he had to jump from one log stump to another. It was easy enough for him to find the best route in the maze of stumps, but he had to take too long readying himself before each jump if he didn't want to miss and slip off, because that would be a nasty fall. After inching his way over the moving balancing logs, suspended by ropes over a deep, muddy trench, he reached the tiger crawl, where Niko was already halfway. Balance was one of the few things the kid was actually a natural at. Heero dropped down into the mud and crawled underneath the web of barbed wire. He noticed the instructor circling back to come keep an eye on him and he knew it meant the rest of the class had already reached the finish line. His entire body ached and the longer he went on, the more his muscles protested and it was becoming more difficult to move. The end of the obstacle seemed miles away and he felt like he was sinking into the mud, rather than fighting through it. He was barely making any progress. "Come on, Maxwell!" The instructor shouted with an impatient drawl. "I want to be home before dinner, if it's not too much of an inconvenience for you! What are you doing over there? Making mud-angels?" He clenched his jaw shut and soldiered on. Pained groans and cries escaped him as his entire body was commanding him to stop and he kept ignoring it. Finally, he reached the end and he scrambled up to his feet, only he straightened up too quickly and he caught his trousers on the last string of barbed wire. He kicked himself free and glared indignantly at the rip over his calf for only a split second before forcing himself through the final handful of obstacles, with barely any energy left. At the end of the course, he crumbled down to the ground and clutched at his right boot again, willing the pain to stop with every fiber of his being. "Congratulations, Maxwell," the instructor said snidely and with a beep he stopped his stopwatch. "Eight minutes and thirty-six seconds. That is a new record." The whole class snickered, except Niko, of course. "Hit the showers, 4B. Let's go home." Heero didn't get up to follow the group and remained seated on the ground to catch his breath and scrape together some dignity. Niko lingered. "Did you cut yourself?" Heero frowned. "No, it's just… my toe." "No, I mean-…" Rather than finish his sentence, Niko pointed at the rip in Heero's trousers. "Looks like you cut yourself on the barbed fire." "It's fine, it's just the pants." "Oh, okay. You got lucky then. That wire is an infection waiting to happen." He tilted his head and offered a smile as he tried to make light of the situation and distract Heero from his embarrassing failure. He didn't know how he was ever supposed to get used to this. To get used to being a failure. To get used to being lesser than. Lesser than everyone around him. Lesser than himself – his old self, at least. Things were supposed to be getting better and they were getting better, but still every day was a disappointment. Every day it became more glaring that he might not be able to prove Sally, WuFei and everyone else wrong. Maybe he can't do this anymore. But what is he, if not the perfect soldier? He thought of Duo again. Why does every train of thought circle back to Duo? He understood his mind about as well as his own, new body. He missed everything being easy. He thought of Duo and what he would think of him. It shamed him. At the end of the day, he was exhausted. He went home even though Niko asked him to continue training with him. Niko was a lot like Heero. Like the new Heero, that is. Of the Twelve disciplines he was only failing at the physical ones; he excelled at everything else. It would have been impressive if not for the morose realization that it wouldn't be enough. His tactical knowledge and weaponry skills would not make him a Preventer agent. If he failed the PIE's there was no future in the field for him. The same went for Heero. The only place the agency would have for them, is in a basement somewhere, behind a bank of computer monitors. Heero always believed he had more to offer than that. A better way to repent for all his past wrongs. After a shower he slumped into his wheelchair, giving into the soreness of his thighs and still seeking relief from the pain in his toe. He rolled through the living room, past the kitchen. He couldn't force himself to eat right now. There were many things he needed, but not food. The thought alone made him nauseous. He rolled to the window, parking himself between the window and the end table where the phone was docked. It wasn't that late yet, but nowadays the urge to call home came at all times of the day, not just in the dead of night. He tucked the phone between his cheek and shoulder as it started to ring and he aimed his tired gaze outside. There wasn't much to see other than the brick walls and blinded windows of the building across the alley. The smell of car exhausts was stronger today; the wind must be coming from the direction of the highway, blowing the smog into town. In spite of this, there was something about Earth that put him at ease now. In the way that it was unpredictable and imperfect. His feet were propped up on the window sill. He was wearing nothing but his boxers and his tank top. He rarely wore anything else at the apartment. Here, he didn't have to worry about people noticing how odd his toes looked, and how there were horizontal seams running across both thighs. He inspected the length of his leg and a small, irritated frown appeared. There was a cut in the synthetic skin, on his left leg. The barbed wire had gotten more than just his trousers apparently. It was barely visible – nothing but an inch long slit – but once he noticed it, he couldn't unsee it. It irked him. He felt it itch, being very much aware of how crazy that way. The phone continued to ring, unanswered. He reached a hand down and dug the nail of his thumb into the slit and flicked the edge. He caught a glimpse of shimmering black underneath. The skin snapped back into place. He flicked it again and again, thoughtlessly, with each ring of the phone. It worsened the itch he felt but even that could not distract him from the throb he felt in his big toe after the long day. Flick. Flick. Flick. Flick. The call was aborted. A long tone sounded, before the device went silent. He put it away without looking, keeping his focus on his leg. Flick. Flick. Flick. Flick. Flick. He froze when the clean cut from the barbed wire tore open a little further. One end was jagged now, curving away from the straight line of the cut. After a lengthy pause, his fingers ran along the cut, which had now formed into a sloped shape of a triangle. He picked at the corner, opening the flip, revealing more of the glossy black with a spider web of silver. Carbon fiber reinforced with titanium, he knew. The skin slipped out from under his nail and the wound snapped shut again. He straightened up in the chair. Putting his feet down in the footrests and purposefully folding his hands into his lap, knowing he shouldn't make the tear any worse. He should call Sally and have her arrange an appointment at the medical facility at the Academy, to have the cut fixed. But now the itch and the pain in his toe were insufferable. He couldn't distract himself. He couldn't think about all the things he should do. His very conscious was pulled towards it, until the itch and the pain was all that there was. It frustrated him. These were not his real legs. His legs were better. His legs worked the way he needed them to. His legs didn't cause him grief. His legs he could rely on. His legs were strong. These were not his legs. These legs did not even have sensation, so it wasn't fair that he should experience pain. He shouldn't have to suffer this pain and this itch! These were not his legs! This was not his body! This was not his mind! Everything was betraying him. Disappointing him. What would Duo think seeing him like this? Seeing how pathetic he had become? In anger, Heero put his left foot on the sill again and grabbed the piece of skin and pulled at it. With a fling of his arm he ripped a strip of skin off, exposing a streak of black and subtle glints of silver down the side of his leg. The piece tore off and he tossed it to the side. Not feeling any relief from his frustrating yet, he continued to claw at the synthetic skin. With the fingers of both hands he reached into the big, black scar. The loose skin was easy to grab and another chunk was torn off his leg, exposing more of his shin. The skin on the foot came off like a sock. He hooked a finger into the skin covering the knee and pulled up, splitting it in a straight line up his thigh, to where it overlapped with his real skin. The synthetic material fell down to the floor. He stared. The black leg was in stark contrast with the other. Multiple panels were connected to form the shell which had given shape to the leg. At the front of his knee panels overlapped and moved over each other to allow range of motion. The back of the knee was hollow. The joint, dual pistons and a thick metal cable were visible. His ankle was similar; paneling opening up to reveal twin pistons and the continuation of that thick cord. The toe of the left foot – which wasn't really a toe – didn't hurt anymore. He didn't feel anything. The right leg still looked like his own. But it was a lie. A pain started to build in his foot, as his brain was trying to play tricks on him, transferring the pain from the left foot to the right. Heero attempted to dig his nails into the rubbery layer, but he couldn't pierce it. Then he thought to start at the edge, over his thigh. Rather than tearing it open, he rolled it down the length of his leg. It was fairly easy, as he supposed it was meant to be, for the purpose of replacing it. It came free as an inside out sleeve, that fell to the floor shapelessly. Neither foot was hurting anymore. A calm settled over him. His heart rate slowed. He studied them with only an apathetic interest. If not for the ankles and the hollow knee, it looked like he was wearing thigh-high metal boots. He moved his toes back and forth on the hinge that could now be seen. The mechanics were soundless, even as he experimentally rolled his ankles and bent his knees, as if he was discovering them for the first time. As if he hadn't been walking around on these legs for months now. It was odd to see them move, now that the trickery of his mind had ceased. The carbon fiber was cold and smooth to the touch. He couldn't feel the imbedded net of titanium. These weren't his legs. His brain accepted that now. Maybe one day, he could too. ~ * ~ tbc... AN: Fun fact (or not): This entire story started out as an idea for a tragic/thriller/horror oneshot in which Heero had his legs amputated and replaced by prosthetics, after which he suffered a psychotic break - the realization that his legs weren't real, caused him to think his entire body wasn't real and that the people around him weren't real, which led to him killing Duo. So... there's that. Haha, hope you like the alternative route I've chosen.
Chapter 16 |
