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"Boot Camp"Written By: Snowdragonct Disclaimer: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing or the characters, more's the pity. This is for fun...no profit involved. Warnings: AU (sort of), yaoi, swearing (lots), some OOC (probably), some violence, references to NCS (especially in later chapters) Pairings: 1+2, 3+4 (to start with) A/N: This is the first time I'm getting up the nerve to post a story...hope it's not too similar to anyone else's (haven't seen one just like it). Candid, kindly-delivered critiques will be greatly appreciated...please don't rip my head off too much? Um, and the old "don't like, don't read" phrase holds true. Oh, and it's fiction, and I don't have a law degree, so there's sure to be some inaccuracies...can we just pretend, please? Thanks in advance. Rating: NC 17 Summary: Four boys in the juvenile justice system
receive a last chance to make something of their futures. Will boot
camp make or break them? And can they ever learn to be a team? "Boot Camp" Chapter Three: Meetings and Threats The sun had barely brightened the sky when the wakeup sounded. One of the soldiers slammed open the barracks door and stomped in. “Everyone up and at ‘em!” Duo groaned, rolling over and dangling his legs over the side of the bunk. “Gods! It’s not even light out.” “Not a problem, maggots!” sneered the man cheerfully. “Your sunny smiles will light your way.” Duo mock-gagged, and Quatre couldn’t help but giggle as he sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “You little babies have got fifteen minutes to get your girly butts to the showers, and get dressed and out in the exercise yard. Got it?” “Sir yes sir?” yawned Duo, dropping to the floor, and stretching wearily. Trowa shook his head, throwing off his covers and joining the others in climbing out of bed to get ready for morning exercises. “Fourteen and counting,” the soldier grunted, turning and leaving them to their own devices. “Shit,” Duo muttered, wriggling his shoulders, and yawning again. “It’ll take me that long just to brush and braid the hair.” Quatre looked up from rummaging through his foot locker for a clean uniform. “At least they didn’t make you cut it off,” he pointed out. Duo clutched the end of his braid possessively. “That’ll be the day.” Trowa gathered his clothes, towel, and toothbrush and headed out the door for the showers, without so much as a ‘good morning.’ “Friendly s.o.b., ain’t he?” Duo drawled. Quatre shrugged. “Quiet, but he seems nice enough.” Duo snorted, shaking his head. Then, as Duo walked over to his foot locker, Quatre glimpsed the side of his face, and gasped. “What happened to you?” “Huh?” Duo realized where the blonde was staring, and put a hand to his cheek. “Oh, that. I, uh, fell.” The other boy’s eyes narrowed. “Fell? Into someone’s fist? That looks like someone back knuckled you.” Duo couldn’t help but notice how uncannily accurate Quatre was. “According to Warden Kushrenada, I must’ve done it on the obstacle course.” “But you weren’t on the—oh,” Quatre said in realization. “Let it go,” Duo said quietly, gathering a clean uniform and towel. “C’mon. We can look out for each other in the showers.” “Look out? Why?” Quatre asked, following the taller boy out of the barracks and across the compound to the community shower. “Because you and I are way too ‘pretty’ to be here,” Duo replied flippantly. Quatre’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean--?” Duo paused, turning toward the blonde and lowering his voice to a near whisper. “I mean…don’t get caught alone…and don’t go anywhere with someone you don’t trust…inmate or guard. Understand?” “Y-yeah,” Quatre answered hesitantly. He began to understand what Duo meant when he saw how the shower facility was arranged. There were lockers to put their change of clothes in, but all the inmates had to undress right there and cross to the shower with only their towel for cover. And inside the shower it was worse. There were two rows of spigots, back to back, so no one had any privacy at all. Blushing crimson at the exposure, Quatre hung his towel on a hook near his chosen shower, and turned on the water, trying not to look anywhere or at anyone else as he hastily rinsed off. Duo had it tougher, having to unbraid his long hair and spend several moments washing and rinsing it. By the time he finished, he and Quatre were the last two in the shower. With practiced ease, Duo wrung the excess water from his chestnut hair, and threw a towel around his slender waist before heading back to the lockers. Quatre hurried after him, not wanting to be alone in the big, open room. There were only a handful of inmates in the locker area still dressing when the two reached their lockers. Duo transferred the towel from his waist to his hair and pulled on his pants quickly, breathing a sigh at being clothed again. He pulled his boots on and then started working on his hair. Quatre was following his example, minus the braid of course, when a harsh laugh made him look over to a group of inmates at the other end of the row of lockers. “Hey, blondie,” sneered a sandy-haired boy. “What’s your name?” His brown eyes darted a glance at Duo, too. “And your girlfriend’s.” Duo stiffened at the comment, still blotting the water from his long hair. “Ignore ‘em, Quat,” he murmured under his breath. Quatre gratefully obeyed, throwing a shirt on and fumbling to button it with hands that shook. He was painfully aware that he and Duo were now alone and outnumbered. “I’m talking to you,” snarled the sandy-haired one again, walking closer. Quatre looked up reluctantly. The approaching boy was flanked by three others, and all four had menacing expressions on their faces. Duo turned slightly, leaning casually on his locker. His wet hair was twisted into a thick rope over one shoulder, and his shirt was still unbuttoned. He narrowed cobalt eyes at the newcomers. “He’s Quatre,” he said coldly. “I’m Duo. And we all have about five minutes to put our shit away and get to the exercise yard. D’you really want to start this now and get us all in trouble the first day?” The sandy-haired boy sneered at him. “Worried that K. will ship you back to L2, colony-trash?” Clearly everyone had heard about Duo’s previous brush with the warden. They knew he was already on shaky ground, and had more to lose than any other inmate for the moment. “S’okay,” added the boy. “If you behave, maybe I’ll put in a good word for you.” He eyed Duo up and down. “Coming from L2, I’ll bet you know all kinds of ways to ‘behave.’” A sharp voice at the door broke the group up before the indigo-eyed boy could snarl out the reply he was formulating. “Maggots! You got two minutes to get your asses to the exercise yard, or you’re all on report!” The four bigger boys backed off, and Duo and Quatre followed the drill instructor at a jog, taking the opportunity to escape. Duo ran and braided at the same time, and they tossed their towels into their barracks on the way past, arriving at calisthenics barely on time. Quatre was hastily tucking in his shirt, while Duo was still buttoning his, but by the time the drill instructors had organized themselves, both boys were at attention in the lineup with all the others. They made it through the morning exercise and two-mile run without incident, as there were several Mobile Suit Corps soldiers flanking them at all times. Aside from Duo shooting a narrow, warning gaze at the group of boys from the shower, there was no further interaction. After the run, the recruits had a half-hour break before breakfast. For this first day only, the time was occupied by one of the soldiers’ explaining the daily routine. From then on, that would be their time to shower and change. “Well that’ll help speed things up in the morning,” Duo muttered to Quatre. They were seated in some bleachers listening to the man outline their schedules. After the five a.m. daily wakeup, they’d have calisthenics and a two-mile run. Then they had time to shower and change before a six o’clock breakfast. After that there were two classes each morning, covering martial arts, tactics, and military history. Then they’d have an hour for lunch from eleven to twelve, a weapons class until two, and an hour of free time before three o’clock calisthenics. Afternoons would be filled by obstacle course training and fitness hikes, or as Duo translated it, forced marches. There was supper at six, followed by two hours of study time before lights out promptly at nine. Bed check was at ten. The only variation to the routine would be Sundays, which were free of class time, instead allowing for a service at the chapel and visiting hours, once they were allowed. “Any questions?” Duo tensed to raise his hand, but Quatre put a hand on his wrist, blue eyes looking worriedly at his friend. The blonde boy shook his head very slightly in warning. Shrugging in response, Duo looked away and let it go, conceding that Quatre was probably right. He should keep his sassy remarks to a minimum until the previous day’s incident was forgotten. On Duo’s other side, Trowa snorted quietly, shaking his head. Not much escaped those sharp green eyes. He looked past Duo to Quatre, smirking his approval. The three roommates stuck together for the rest of the morning, and the boys from the shower left them alone now that the numbers were more equal. At lunch, Duo managed to spill a whole glass of milk on himself while joking around with his two teammates, so he made a dash to the barracks to change it between lunch and weapons class. He was walking briskly towards the exercise yard where the class was to be held, when a voice hailed him. “Maxwell?” Duo stopped, turning to face an Oriental looking man in a military uniform. “Uh—yeah?” He glanced over his shoulder, knowing he had only minutes to get to class. The Chinese man walked closer, and Duo looked up at him questioningly. There was a cool, assessing look in the soldier’s dark eyes, and an arrogant tilt to his head. Jet black hair was pulled into a short ponytail, giving him a severe look. “I’m Captain Chang.” “Okay.” Duo eyed the man blankly. And why should he care who this guy was? “I’m the commanding officer for the boot camp program. You weren’t at roll call.” “Uh—no. I was in the infirmary,” Duo told him, indigo eyes darkening as he recalled the warden’s punishment. “Warden Kushrenada told me,” the Captain said, with the faintest suggestion of a sneer curling his lips. “Told you what?” Duo asked, crossing his arms and tapping a foot slightly. He was curious as to the warden’s version of the story. “He said you were insubordinate, for starters,” Captain Chang said coolly, frowning at the boy’s defiant stance. “It’s clear he was right.” He gestured towards the military liaison office building. “We need to talk.” Duo set his jaw stubbornly. “I’ll miss class.” “That’s not a problem,” Chang shrugged, already heading towards the building. “The instructing officer knows you’re with me.” Duo sighed, following the man into the cinderblock structure. There was a small office set up—a couple of desks and file cabinets, but not much else. It was austere to the extreme. Captain Chang closed the door and crossed to his desk, sitting down and looking at a thick file folder. He laid a hand on it, fingers spread. “Your file, Maxwell.” “Yeah, I figured as much.” Duo glanced around for a chair, but there was none. So he guessed he was supposed to stand, facing the man behind the desk. “It’s not a pretty picture.” Duo smirked darkly at that. “Life’s not pretty,” he shrugged. “You grew up in the slums of L2…” continued the soldier. “Orphaned at an early age…part of a street gang, most of whom died of the plague…” “All,” Duo corrected him sharply. “They all died, except me.” “…taken into the Maxwell Church,” continued the Captain as if he hadn’t heard. “Yeah, I know all this!” Duo said tautly, not wanting to rehash the bleak memories. It was bad enough the church had been destroyed, leaving him the sole survivor a second time. He didn’t want to think about it. “So you think that you have an excuse to commit crimes?” “No—just reasons,” Duo shrugged. He leveled a glare at the office. “Why don’t you cut the shit and tell me what you want to tell me, hmm?” “Very well,” said the Captain, standing up and placing both hands flat on his desk, glaring at the braided boy. “The only reason you’re here is because of your test scores. Your psyche profile and previous incarcerations peg you as a career criminal. So I’ll be happy to send you off to the L2 penal facility if you step one foot out of line. Here are the rules.” He slid a piece of paper across the desk. “Note that first on the list states that if you break even one camp rule, you can be sent off to serve the remainder of your time at a prison. In your case, I believe that’s two years.” “Three, but who’s counting?” Duo muttered, scanning the list of regulations. “Second on the list might be particularly pertinent to you, Maxwell. You are to refer to all uniformed instructors by rank or as ‘sir,’ myself included. You are to come to attention and salute when instructed to do so. You are not to use profanity or show disrespect to any soldier on this base.” “Aw…fuck this…” Duo mumbled under his breath, reading down the page and knowing he’d never be able to follow all the nit-picky little rules. “Excuse me, Maxwell?” came the sharp inquiry. Duo’s eyes widened, and he looked up through his bangs, somewhat chastened. “Uh…I’m…it just slipped out…sir?” The officer’s eyebrows had drawn together in a frown, which eased only slightly at the boy’s conciliatory tone. Captain Chang shook his head. “You are way out of your league here, Maxwell, as are most of the recruits. Although the first thirty days are considered a probationary period, I warn you, a serious enough infraction will put you on the first available shuttle to L2.” Duo looked at the soldier, sighing in resignation. “Yeah, you and Warden K. must be best pals,” he drawled wearily, realizing that if both ranking officers wanted him gone, he had almost no chance at all. Captain Chang’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t presume to compare the warden and myself, Maxwell. He is a Corrections Officer. I am a military trainer and, for this assignment, recruiter. Our goals are nothing alike.” “Sure they are,” Duo replied bitterly. “You both want to see me off to L2 at your earliest convenience.” His indigo eyes fairly glowed with anger. “And since you’re both in on it, I’m sure you’ll succeed. Hell, you may as well just trump up some charges and send me, since no one would take my word over yours anyway.” He straightened his shoulders slightly, lifting his chin. “Is there anything else? Sir?” The Captain eyed him for a long moment, studying his face, and then shook his head. “Nothing more, Maxwell. Dismissed.” Duo was almost to the door when the officer’s voice made him pause. “Maxwell—where’d you get the bruise on your face?” Duo didn’t turn around. “I fell on the obstacle course.” “You haven’t been on the obstacle course,” the Captain pointed out. “According to the warden, I have,” Duo said flatly. “May I go to class now…sir?” Rolling his eyes at the snide emphasis on the word ‘sir,’ Captain Chang relented. “Go ahead, Maxwell.” As soon as the boy left, Wufei Chang sighed, settling back into his seat. He knew perfectly well how the bruise had been inflicted. He’d seen enough injuries during his training to know that someone must have backhanded the boy. But he didn’t know who, or why. He’d have assumed it was another inmate, except that there was a noticeable dark outline in the bruise that looked very much like a heavy ring, and none of the inmates were permitted any jewelry. They weren’t even allowed to wear watches. Sighing again, and shaking his head, Wufei moved on to the next file folder, which was even thicker than Duo Maxwell’s. There was one inmate left to arrive…his lateness due to a shuttle delay and some botched paperwork. Although the Captain knew the contents of the folder, he wanted to review it before dealing with the latecomer…one ‘Heero Yuy’ from colony L1.
Duo stood facing him, more or less in a posture of attention. “Captain Chang needed to see me…uh…sir. He said you knew.” “That doesn’t change the punishment for tardiness,” shrugged the soldier. “What’s your name?” “Maxwell.” “Well, Recruit Maxwell, I’m Lieutenant Lareau, your weapons instructor. And for being twelve minutes late, you get twelve laps around the track. Now.” Duo blinked at him in astonishment. “Twelve laps? But it’s a half-mile track!” “Your point?” “That’s six miles.” “It’s nice to know you can multiply fractions, Maxwell. Now get running…and I don’t mean a leisurely jog. I want six minute miles…or better.” “But--.” “But nothing!” snarled the instructor. “Since you just wasted another minute of class time, make it thirteen laps…or six and a half miles, since you’re so fond of figures. Get to it, Maxwell!” Glaring daggers at the man, Duo turned towards the track. “Maxwell!” “What?!” he demanded in exasperation, turning back around. “You salute before you go, Recruit.” “Motherfu--.” Duo caught himself just in time, biting down sharply on his tongue. He narrowed his expressive eyes, and grudgingly raised a hand in a sloppy but serviceable salute. “May. I. Go. Sir?” “Get to it, Maxwell,” grinned the instructor. Duo turned with a muttered curse, and sprinted off to the track, setting a pace that had helped him outrun many a cop or angry storekeeper from his shoplifting days on L2. He’d been the best sprinter in the gang he’d run with, but no one had ever chased him for over six miles. This promised to be a challenge.
Captain Chang nodded, eyeing the young man appraisingly. He spared a glance at the warden. “Thank you for bringing him to me. Has he had the orientation talk?” “He’s had the detention facility talk…it’s up to you to give him the military guidelines of the program.” The warden shrugged, a slight smirk on his face. “You’ve got yourself a bunch of ruffians here, Chang. Good luck with any of ‘em.” “Thank you,” Captain Chang replied, giving the warden a stony look. He was about to dismiss the other man, but reconsidered for a moment. “Do you happen to know how Maxwell acquired the bruise on his face?” “Ah, yes…the obstacle course,” smirked the warden. “That was part of his punishment for insubordination…I had him try a lap through the beginner course.” He grinned maliciously. “In case you’re wondering, he failed miserably.” “I see.” The Captain’s glance dropped to Warden Kushrenada’s hand that was resting on the door handle; specifically the large, square signet ring on it. “Again, thank you for bringing…uh, Recruit Yuy to me.” He nodded dismissively, watching with a frown as the warden left. Then he looked at the boy standing across from him with an expectant look on his face. “Yuy.” “Chang.” The Chinese officer smiled. “It’s good to see you, Heero.” The boy nodded in response. “Likewise, Wufei. ” His sharp gaze didn’t miss much, and he noticed the thick file folders on the desk in front of the officer. “I see you’ve been reading up on me.” Wufei nodded. “Of course.” His dark eyes studied Heero’s face. “Did you forget, I knew your--guardian?” Heero’s face darkened. “I’d rather not talk about him, Wufei.” “He’s the reason you’re here.” “Hai,” shrugged the younger boy. “And you’re the reason I’m here.” Heero looked up sharply. “What do you mean?” “When I saw your name on the list for the Peacecraft Program, I asked to be assigned here.” Wufei gestured to the thick folder. “I’m glad I did. No one else would have been able to read between the lines.” His dark eyes locked onto Heero’s. “Why didn’t you claim self defense?” “Because it wasn’t,” Heero replied simply. “I waited until he’d passed out drunk—and I beat him into a coma.” “And how many times had he beaten you?” Wufei countered. “How many years of his abuse had you taken? And as for the little girl--.” “Stop!” Heero ordered sharply. “I don’t want to talk about it, Wufei.” “The point is, it’s easy to see why you did it, Heero.” Wufei shook his head. “You should have had the best lawyer money could buy, instead of a third-rate public defender.” “I did what I thought was best,” Heero shrugged. “And now I’m going to do what I think is best,” Wufei told him. “I want to see you do well here, and end up at the Academy. I know you can.” He frowned slightly, glancing down at the paperwork in front of him. “Although Kushrenada got to make up the team assignments, I was able to prevail upon him to group you by test scores. Your three teammates had the highest aptitude tests next to yours. In fact, a couple of them outscored you in portions of the test.” He winced slightly at the sight of Maxwell’s name on the list. “Your group is Team Wing. When we hold first formation in the morning, team leaders will be appointed, and goals will be laid out. Aside from the class work and physical training, there will be ongoing competitions between the teams.” He looked at the boy he’d grown up best friends with. “You can do this, Heero. Since this is a voluntary project, I know you want to be here…I know this means something to you. So I expect your team to finish in first place.” Heero gave a brief, wry smile. “Mission accepted.” It was a phrase they’d used since childhood, when they’d played endless games of mobile suit combat. It made Wufei smile in return, knowing that he could help his long-time friend make the most of this opportunity. “You may as well go to your barracks and relax for a couple of hours. You can join in at afternoon calisthenics…at the athletic field at three.” “Hai.” “Good luck, Heero. Dismissed.” Heero made his way out of the office and headed for
the barracks listed on his index card with the key attached. He found
it without trouble, and seeing that three of the four bunks were already
in use, he settled onto the last one, stretching out to rest after
over twenty-four hours of travel from L1.
tbc... |
