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"The Princess With The Purple Heart"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: Smut, angst, AU Pairings: 1x2, Summary: Don't ask, don't tell
"The Princess With The Purple Heart" Seventeen Maybe it's the splitting headache that wakes him up. Or maybe because his shoulder hurts like a bitch. Or maybe it's Heero shouting at him like he offended him. "You stupid motherfucker! Yeah, you better be fucking waking up, you asswipe!" "Is that really helpful?" Someone counters, but with an amused tone. "…It really isn't," Duo croaks. He squints his eyes as he tries to open them. There is a sharp intake of breath and then a moment of silence. It doesn't last long. "Tough shit, dickwad," Heero retorts, but in spite of his words, he sounds less angry now that it is apparent Duo is coming to. The Lance Corporal groans. His head is throbbing and he feels sharp pains on his legs, ass and arms. He is lying on his stomach on a bed at Camp Sharana's Trauma Center. He is completely undressed and he winces whenever one of the points in his flesh hurts more all of a sudden. "Lay still," a medic instructs, with the same voice he heard earlier. Duo hears the metallic sound of instruments and then the pain flares in a spot on the back of his upper thigh, causing him to tense up. He manages to open his eyes. He has his head turned to the side, resting heavily on his left cheek. The first thing he sees is Heero's face, close to his. He has dried blood on his upper lip, his nose is discolored and the inner corners of his eye sockets are black and blue. He also sees the medic, standing at his bedside, holding a stainless steel tray and long, thin prongs with which he pokes at him and the digs the pieces of shrapnel out of his flesh. The only thing that makes that pain bearable, is his headache overpowering everything else anyway. He feels groggy and knows he has been given painkillers, but they don't do much it seems. He shifts his gaze back to Heero, who is crouched by the head of his bed with his fingers gripping the edge. He remembers crashing into the Corporal when the force of the blast threw him forward and the result is plain to see on Heero's face. "Did I break your nose?" He asks remorsefully. "No. But this makes the second time you almost did, you fuck-twit." The medic chuckles and then digs the prongs into the sensitive skin of Duo's left butt cheek. "Ow ow ow!" "You deserve that," Heero is quick to say, but that biting tone to his voice is all gone now and he can't keep his concern and sympathy from showing in his eyes. When the pain subsides, Duo jokes: "It's only fair that I get the pain in my ass for once." Heero widens his eyes at the careless joke and scrambles to cover it up. "Yeah, after you've always been a pain in my ass." He yelps again when the medic has to dig a little deeper. "Are you almost done back there?" He barks. "Almost. You're lucky they didn't go too deep, and that your vest stopped them. It would have been worse if they had been all in your back as well." "It's your own damn fault. You could have gone for cover behind the car," Heero tells him. "And then it would have been you lying here, getting shrapnel fished out of your dick." "Nooo, not quite," the medic drawls. He finishes up with the prongs and sets it and the metal tray with shrapnel aside. Before he gets to work on bandaging all of the small wounds, he grabs Duo's helmet and holds it out for him to see as he says: "Corporal Yuy would have been lying in the morgue if you hadn't stepped in front of him." The medic sends a look Heero's way. Duo looks at the helmet held in front of him with tired eyes. The piece of shrapnel that hit him in the back of the head is still embedded in it. It's a diamond-shaped, metal plate, from the bumper of the armored Humvee, about the size of an A4 piece of paper. It has warped and is rippled at the point where it is stuck in the back of the helmet. The sharp point is imbedded in the lower rim – an inch lower and it would have passed between his helmet and the high collar of his Kevlar vest and it might have decapitated him, considering its size and the speed with which it hit him. But the scariest realization is that the medic is right. If Duo hadn't instinctively stepped in front of Heero to shield him, the metal plate would have hit him in the face and would have likely pierced right through him and into his brain. All of a sudden, he doesn't feel tired anymore. His heart starts to race at the thought of how close he came to losing his friend – again. He flits his gaze up at Heero, at his perfect face and his kind eyes, even though he is trying to keep up the indignant and angry act. "Corporal Yuy owes you a thank you," the medic concludes. He puts away the helmet and reaches for the bandages and antiseptic and gets to work on dressing the numerous small wounds. Heero snorts. "Oh please, he just did it so he'll finally get his own Purple Heart. Just so you know, they don't hand out Silver Stars for doing a pretty pirouette." Duo ignores his attempt at sarcasm and doesn't care what the medic might think, he grabs Heero's hand and holds onto it tightly. Feeling him is the only way he can get himself to control his breathing and calm down his heartrate. Heero lets him hold it and Duo is grateful. He can't tear his gaze away from Heero's eyes. Not until a few minutes later, when the medic is nearly done tending to him, does Duo come out of his shock and does he think to ask: "What about the others? What about Lindsey?" "He's in bad shape but he's going to make it. They are flying him back to the States tonight. Flint too. The Humvee caught the worst of it, but the Staff and the driver are fine. Chapple and Medina got lucky with just a few scrapes." The medic catches him up on his own status: "As you can tell, you got hit by a lot of shrapnel. But you also suffered a serious concussion when that piece impacted with your helmet. And the wheel came off the Humvee and skimmed past your left shoulder, dislocating it." "Ah, so that's what that is." He wiggles the fingers of his left hand, which gives more focus to the pain in his immobilized shoulder. "But you are going to make a full recovery, Lance Corporal," the medic assures him. "That's good." The medic adds: "They are flying you out of here with Lindsey and Flint tonight." His eyes widen. "Wait, what?" He looks at Heero, noting his forlorn expression. "They're flying me home? Why?" The medic scoffs. "You can't stay here, Lance Corporal. You are injured and you need to recover." "But- but there is only two weeks left!" He objects. "Exactly, so there is no point keeping you here. By the time your left arm is functional, your tour is up and you'll be going home anyway." "Wha-?" The news completely catches him off guards and disorients him. "What about the rest of the unit?" He asks Heero. "We'll be home in two weeks." His heart drops at having the last two weeks of tour – the last two weeks with Heero – stolen from him. "But the unit will be three men down!" "We'll reinforce the other teams." "I don't want to leave," he states resolutely. "I'm not leaving." "That's not your decision to make," Heero argues, "it's the Gunnery Sergeant's, and he has made up his mind. They have to charter a flight for Lindsey and Flint anyway, so it's easy getting you out of here along with them." Duo grips Heero's hand more tightly. "What about you, though? You're-… you're injured too!" He looks pointedly at the bruised nose and inner eye-sockets. He squeezes Heero's hand ever tighter. "A little booboo on my face is no reason to be sent home, Duo. I'll be fine." He pulls his hand away and Duo imagines that his distress is drawing suspicion, but he can't help it. He likes the thought of leaving Heero behind least of all. It is more apparent than ever that he needs to be around to protect his friend. If Duo hadn't been by his side, Heero would be dead right now! But the Corporal was right: it's not his decision and there is no point to wasting energy trying to fight the Gunnery on this. Keeping him on base would only be a burden; with his arm immobilized, he has nothing to offer to make his stay worthwhile. He'd be someone they need to protect, should another attack come and that kind of effort can't be spared. Heero leaves him alone so Duo can get more rest and the medic gives him a shot that puts him back to sleep for a few hours. Before leaving the med bay later that afternoon, he goes to visit Lindsey and Flint first. Duo's left arm is in a sling and his entire body hurts as he walks, but he's mobile and he realizes just how lucky he is when he sees the state his fallen comrades are in. Flint looks relatively well, all things considered, and he sports a lopsided smile when Duo walks up to his bed. His words are slurred as the soldier is high on pain medication, but in the thankful absence of pain, he is in good spirits. He has four broken ribs on his left side and a broken femur, from a big piece of shrapnel cutting into his leg, right down to the bone. He is severely burned from the tips of his fingers up to the side of his neck and the doctors at Bethesda will have their work cut out for them to save the functionality of his arm, considering the nerve damage he sustained. Flint is too high to fully grasp the severity of his injuries and looks more worried about Duo instead, and he apologizes because he feels responsible. Him and Lindsey should have seen the IED in time. "Don't worry about it." He lays a comforting hand on his chest and then moves to the other bed, where Lindsey is being kept in a medical coma. The youngest soldier of the unit looks unrecognizable. His blond hair is black with soot and his eyebrows have been singed off. One side of his face is covered in bandages, as are both his arms and upper chest. He was closest to the explosion and the fire that licked around itself. He suffered no serious internal injuries, which is a miracle. Being thrown clear from the blast and landing in the sand saved his life, but his burns were extensive and the pain would be unmanageable if he would be conscious to feel it. "Jesus Christ…" Duo puts a hand on the young man's lower leg and gives a soft squeeze. He spends a long time standing next to the bed, even though his own body is aching. Sitting down wouldn't be any better anyway, considering he had a medic pluck shrapnel out of his ass only a few hours ago. He stays until the medical team comes in to get the two bedridden soldiers ready for transport. He knows he would only get in the way and he has to pack in preparation of his own departure anyway. On his way back to his barrack, everyone he runs into expresses their sympathy, tells him that they are going to miss him and wish him well. He offers a half-smile in return. It's the end of an era when he is not ready for it to end yet. The door to the barrack is open and he shuffles inside. The sheets are already gone from his bed and on top of his cot sits his duffel bag instead. Heero is working on piling Duo's few belongings into it and he looks up when he becomes aware of his presence. Duo knows Heero only means to help, but he doesn't like the idea of the Corporal literally helping to get him out of there. Although there is nothing else for the man to do, he can't fight the Gunnery Sergeant on this either. They have no choice but to resign. "You okay?" The Japanese-American soldier asks after the silence extends between them for a long time. Duo purses his lips as he refuses to cry, but he admits: "No." He doesn't like the way his voice cracks. "I went to see Flint and Lindsey…" In spite of his best efforts to keep his emotions in check, he fails and he breaks out in tears. He brings up his right hand and sobs into his palm. Heero crosses the distance between them and pulls him into a gentle hug, careful not to aggravate his injuries. Duo dips his head down and presses his nose into Heero's shoulder. He wraps his one good arm around him and twists the fingers into the shirt at his back. "It's okay," Heero whispers and he tightens his hold on Duo, clinging to him as the emotions hit him as well. "God, this tour is so fucked up…" he breathes against Heero's neck. "Somehow it is both the best and the worst tour ever… How does that even make sense?" He chuckles bitterly. "It doesn't matter. It's almost over." "But that's the thing," Duo detaches himself to look Heero in the eyes, "I don't want it to end. How fucked up is that? I- I'm not ready to leave. I don't want to leave, I want to stay here," he rambles. "I don't want you to stay," Heero says point blank, startling Duo. His face twists into a hurt expression. "Why?" "I'm relieved you're going home. You'll be safe," Heero explains, putting Duo at ease after the misunderstanding. "Heero, I-" The other doesn't let him finish and hisses: "Do you have any idea how scary that was, not knowing if you were going to be okay? What was I supposed to do with myself if you had died to save my life?" Duo grabs his arm and shakes him. "I do know how scary that is, because I felt the same when you decided to fucking drop-kick a grenade!" "But I did that to save everyone," Heero argues with strained voice. He tries to keep quiet so no one else will overhear. "I risked trading one life for seven, at least that makes sense. You stepping between me and that explosion makes no sense to me." "It's not about sense, or fucking math," Duo counters, "it's about me rather dying than reliving that day in Janabad. The nightmares were bad enough, I don't want that to be my reality ever again." He studies the wild look in those blue eyes and challenges: "Tell me you wouldn't do the same for me, now that you know what it's like on the other side." "…I would," Heero breathes. "Which is why it's good you're going home. At this rate, one of us will end up dead to save the other." He forces on a wry smile. Duo steels his nerves and says: "I'm going to miss you." It's not enough, but he hasn't figured out the rest yet, so he can't say any more. Heero nods. "But we'll see each other in three weeks: at your ceremony." He nods again. He pulls his friend into another hug. "If they're going to shack you up with someone else, promise me you won't get as cozy with them as you did with me." It is supposed to be a joke, but voicing the thought makes him seriously possessive all of a sudden. He leans back and cups Heero's chin his hand, making him meet his gaze. He says in all seriousness: "Promise me you're mine." Heero's lips part in an inaudible gasp. "I promise," he says solemnly. "I want to hear you say it." "I'm yours," he readily complies. His words are a mere whisper. Duo looks over his shoulder out the door to confirm there is no one around to peek into their shadowy barrack and then he leans down to press a kiss to Heero's lips, mindful of his bruised nose. It's very different kiss from what they are used to, because it doesn't serve a greater pleasure. It's just nice and sweet and maybe the most intimate thing they've ever done together. Once they part, Duo moves to his cot, leaving Heero with a confused little frown. The Corporal had already put the box of trinkets Duo kept under his bed into his duffel bag and Duo rummages through it to produce the black beaded bracelet he recovered a while ago. "I want you to have this," he announces and when Heero holds out his hand, Duo slips the elastic bracelet onto his wrist. "This feels official," Heero notes. "Good." They share a self-conscious smile. Too soon it is time for Duo to go. A plane lands on the airstrip of Camp Sharana, which is a rare sight nowadays, so it draws some commotion. The ramp at the back is lowered down to the tarmac and Duo waits at the base as first the two gurneys are rolled onto the airplane. The entire unit surrounds him. One of the flight crew takes the duffel bag that Heero had been holding and carries it onto the plane. He says his goodbyes to everyone and does a better job at keeping the situation lighthearted than when he did when he was alone with Heero. He gives his friend one final hug and then follows the crew onto the plane, where he is assigned a seat opposite of where the gurney's are anchored in place. The wounds in his ass protest, but he doesn't make a big deal about it. He grits his teeth and decides to suffer it without complaint. Duo looks out the back and sees Heero and the rest are still standing there. The wind blows sand around them and pulls at their fatigues. His heart hurts having to leave his brothers behind. He keeps looking at them forlornly until they are ushered away as the plane prepares for take-off. At the very last second, before the ramp closes up, Follander steps onto the plane and he straps himself into a seat a little distance away from Duo. "What are you doing here?" Duo has to shout to be heard over the engines as they come to life. "They're sending me home," he answers offhandedly. "Pending a review of my violation of base rules." "What do you mean?" Follander motions for him to wait a bit and he doesn't respond until the airplane has taken off and has climbed to cruising altitude, when the shaking has calmed down. "I admitted to the Gunnery Sergeant that I've snuck alcohol onto the base and traded it for favors with others." Duo frowns at the turn of events. Follander hadn't seemed very guilty about his little trade before and he hadn't expected him to turn himself in, especially this close to the end of tour, when it was apparent he would have gotten away with it if he hadn't owned up to it. "Why?" The corners of the Private's mouth turn down and he nods at the two beds across from them, where Lindsey and Flint are both kept asleep with medication. "They had been drinking," he says. "That might be why they didn't spot the IED in time." Duo blinks in shock at the revelation. "There's no way to ever know for sure, but being midway between drunk and hungover couldn't have helped. I didn't know beforehand, or I would have stepped in - had them reassigned to the back of the caravan, or something. Flint just told me this morning." He remembers the conversation he had had with Follander during the unit's football game, when the Private refused to tell him who had the last of the alcohol that he had smuggled onto base. Apparently he was protecting Flint and Lindsey from scrutiny, but it ended up backfiring. "You could get discharged for this," Duo points out, as if Follander hadn't already considered that himself when he made the decision to come clean. "Yeah, maybe," he says despondently. "But maybe three tours has been enough anyway. Especially after this last tour, man…" Duo nods, in agreement with the sentiment. "Whatever they decide, it will be the right decision," he continues. "I've been deciding for myself that what I've been doing is okay for way too long and I don't think I can trust my own judgment on this anymore. So I had to hand that decision over to someone else, you know?" "I think that's a good idea," he says encouragingly. "I just wish I had done it sooner." He directs his gaze at the men in the bed again. Duo follows his look and after a thoughtful pause, he says: "It's not your fault; you didn't force anything on them. They made the decision themselves." He looks down at his hands, wringing them in his lap. "And I can't really blame them either, because I know how easy that mistake is to make." He thinks back to the night he and Heero had foolishly gotten drunk and the compound ended up being attacked that night. Lindsey and Flint had made a similar mistake. The unit was supposed to have the night off and if everything had gone according to plan, there would have been no consequences to having a couple of drinks. But nothing ever goes according to plan in a warzone. Never a dull moment at Camp Sharana. They stay silent for the rest of the flight and both even fall asleep at some point, in spite of the uncomfortable seats and the turbulence. The plane touches down in France at a military base for refueling and then crosses the Atlantic, heading straight for Bethesda where the two injured soldiers need to be to be taken care of. After they land in Florida, Duo and Follander walk shoulder-to-shoulder on their way to their ride to the civilian airport, where they will hop onto a flight to their respective homes. Duo is going to New York and Follander is going to Michigan. At the airport, they both disappear into a stall in the restrooms and emerge wearing everyday clothes, to attract less attention. With their duffel bags slung over their shoulder, they navigate to a little bistro at the airport where they wait for their flight. They still hadn't even exchanged a single word, a little in shock at being back on American soil and back in civilization. Ordering drinks at the bistro feels alien and they finally make eye contact again and smile sheepishly at each other. The first thing Follander says is: "Hmmm, that's good," after taking the first sip of his coffee. "God, you just forget what coffee is supposed to taste like." Duo agrees and picks at his sandwich. He should eat, but he doesn't feel hungry. He doesn't think he can stomach any food as he can't stop thinking about the other guys still back at Camp Sharana. He can't shake the feeling that he abandoned them when they needed him. He also wonders how Heero will handle being there without him. His own experience on base, without Heero at his side, hadn't been any fun; he had felt disconnected from everything and everyone. "Thinking about Heero?" "Yeah," Duo answers before he even realizes that he probably shouldn't be so candid. He shoots a look up at the other soldier and catches his knowing smile. "Something is going on between the of you, isn't there?" "Last I checked, Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell hasn't been repealed yet," Duo snaps, feeling attacked by the simple question. "So you shouldn't be asking me that." "But there is something to tell," he surmises. "You're right though, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He probably should have handled that better, since by snapping at the Private so defensively, he basically just admitted to something that he wasn't even really sure was happening; a relationship between him and Heero. He chews on the inside of his cheek. "Don't worry about it, man. If I get the honor of serving with you and Yuy again, I'll keep my damn mouth shut. Because it doesn't matter." Follander looks at Duo poignantly. "The way I see it – no matter what – you guys are still on my team." Duo releases a deep breath. He doesn't say anything, but he nods in gratitude. He is left to fret about whether the others noticed a change between him and Heero as well. But they hadn't been called in by their Staff Sergeant this entire time, so it's safe to assume that if anyone else had caught on, they didn't rat them out. The departure of the flight to Michigan is announced and Follander pays for his coffee and pulled pork sandwich and gives Duo a half-hug, being careful to avoid his left shoulder. They say their goodbyes and Duo watches the Private head for his gate. To kill time, he turns on his cellphone. Now that he is back in the United States, it works again. His family already knows he is coming and the screen lights up with excited texts and missed calls. He replies all of them, feigning enthusiasm. Two hours later he crosses the airport to get to his plane to take him to New York. As he boards the airplane, he wishes it would take him back to Afghanistan. Not even the thought of his memory foam mattress, air-conditioning and barbeque-ribs can lift his spirits nor ease his guilt.
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