World on Fire: Chapter 11, Psalms
Title: World on Fire
Chapter 11: Psalms
Characters: Trowa, Duo, Heero, Quatre
Rating: PG, for swearing and violence
Summary: (narrated by Ron Perlman)
In AC195, on the twentieth anniversary of the assassination of colonist leader Heero Yuy, war was waged once again. The colonies, clustered habitats housing millions of people, were dropped from their home in space.
In less than a day, the space faring humans had been wiped from the stars, the planet that had sheltered them for thousands of years reduced to ashes. For those that survived, it would be a new life, a new civilisation and a new struggle.
But this was still war.
And war never changes.
Word Count: 1528
Trowa sprinted down the bare corridor, Duo's footsteps slapping on the floor close behind him. They had both broke into a run the second the gunfire sounded out, needing no discussion, only quick reaction.
Seeing the dead-still figure of Heero standing in the corridor, he slowed down to a jog, trying to take in the scene. Shouldn't he be looking into the gunshot as well?
“Heero?” Trowa asked quietly as he stopped, the hall filling with silence after the final notes of Duo's slowing shoes. “Heero, what happened?” The boy was looking pale, much paler than usual. Standing there with the distraught expression on his face, he seemed to give literal meaning to the expression scared to death.
“Don't...” Heero raised his arm to block Trowa from going any further, simply stating the one word as if it could give all the explanation anyone would need.
“What's going on?” Trowa asked in retort, his hand briefly touching the restraining arm. He glanced past the arm, down the corridor to where he knew Relena's room lay. The gunshot... Relena... Heero, it all clicked into place as he stared blankly down the hall.
“Trowa?” Duo asked from behind when no response was forthcoming from either of them.
Trowa turned back, taking a hold of Heero's now strangely pliant arm to lay it over Duo's shoulder. “Take him back to our room.” He half ordered, half requested. “Don't ask, just... let me sort it out.”
Duo nodded slowly, no stranger to blank orders and little information. “Come on, then.” He quipped cheerily to Heero, dragging his morose comrade along with him. Trowa watched as they left with some trepidation, part of him wondering if it would a good idea leaving Duo with a soldier that could be so close to snapping.
It made it all the more surprising when Heero's head turned, silently giving him a look of thanks before he let Duo carry him away.
*
The room was not a pretty sight. Trowa had seen a lot of deaths in his short life, but suicide was always the most disturbing. There was something about them that you could just instantly recognise as soon as you saw their face - that is, assuming their face was recognisable. And despite Relena having bit the barrel of a gun, hers still was. Something about the gunshot going off inside the mouth would leave the head intact, and if there wasn't the fine spray of blood painting the wall behind her, it would have looked like she had missed.
“I'm sorry, Relena.” He didn't know what he was apologising for, but it seemed like the right thing to do. There was nothing, even in the most detached and analytical parts of his brain that could put reason in front of emotion while staring at the blood spattered young woman in front of him.
"Oh god." Breathed a voice from the far corner of the room. Lifting his eyebrows, Trowa turned to see Quatre staring across from the far corner of the room, hand delicately covering his mouth.
"Suicide." Trowa announced solemnly, reaching over to slide her lids over the vacant eyes. "She had a terminal dose of radiation. Can't blame her."
Quatre left the room shortly after that, only leaving behind a few pale words about grief and poor Heero. Trowa barely heard him, already busying himself with the thankless task of the undertaker. Pulling her body away from the wall by her ankles, letting her fall down flat to the gurney. Wrapping the bloodstained sheets over until she was encased in them, then pulling her wrapped body into the black canvas bag that had been seen far too often. Everything emotionless, everything methodical.
"I wish I knew what to say." Continued his low monologue to the dead girl he was preparing. "To you maybe, or to Heero. Everyone's putting on a brave face, but inside... we're slowly coming apart. At least I know I am. But we won't stop to fix it, because that's not what people do. We'll just... crumble. But what do I know?" He left Relena there, lying on the table in a body bag, but not before leaving one last thought. "What do I know? I'm fourteen. Fourteen and I was never meant to live past this operation. Maybe you had the right idea."
*
"How's Heero?"
"Emotionally distant, not speaking." Duo snorted, leaning back against Trowa's chest. "So no change, really."
They had both hidden themselves away in the hangar, perched on a gantry high above the vehicles below. A familiar place for the couple that wanted some privacy now and again, one of the few places on the base where their conversations could not be overheard, drowned out as they were by the sound of the mechanics below endlessly tinkering with the machines.
"So..." Trowa started, his hand haltingly coming to a rest on Duo's shoulder.
"So?" Came the confused reply of the other boy.
"What do we do? Wait to just die, like Relena?"
Duo snorted, "She hardly waited to die."
"Well, I say we don't wait. We're sitting around waiting for Quatre to find more information... what use is that information going to be?"
"Tro..." Twisting around in the embrace, Duo turned to face Trowa, reaching up to lay a hand on his check. "I know how you feel. You just want to do something, right?" A short nod under his hand. "We're creatures of action, I know. We're safe here, though. This isn't something we can fight."
They lay back there in the gantry, letting the silence stretch out before them as they each lost themselves in their own minds. Death, survival, the whole world. It was a situation that all the limitations of the human mind failed to grasp. The cracks of that failure were beginning to show.
"If we can't fight, what use are we?"
Duo's mouth opened and shut soundlessly a few times as his tongue failed to wrap itself around a response. He knew he should say something, something soothing, anything at all, but the words were just refusing to form. What use was he, after all, if he couldn't even be expected to produce platitudes? Fortunately, he was rescued from his responsibility by the ringing clank clank of heavy boots on the flexible metal walkways that lead up to the gantry.
"Heero?" Trowa called out as he recognised the approaching figure. He shared a look with his partner, silently pondering that the grieving boy should be out so soon. "What are you doing here?" He queried, just as the other boy climbed the final rungs of the ladder leading to their hidden platform.
"I'm tired of waiting." Heero sat down opposite the couple, crossing his legs and leaning slightly forward though refusing to make eye contact, keeping his head bowed. The tell-tale puff redness around his eyes said all that the boy refused to.
"Funny," Duo gave his boyfriend a brief, pointed look. "We were just talking about that. But we have no ideas."
"Find out what happened." Heero raised his head finally to look the other two in the eye, the force of his gaze not lessened by the evidence of his tears. "No... not what, why. It wasn't an accident. It happened for a reason."
"If we know why, we know what we can do." Duo finished for the other boy.
"Depending on what that why is." Trowa interjected.
"Or how we find it."
Heero nodded quietly along. "We do have one lead. Zechs Merquise."
Both the other boys seemed to ponder this for a moment, before Trowa queried, "He's still not awake... though, if he was caught up in the blast, how likely is it that he knew it was coming?"
"Unlikely, I admit." Heero replied, "But he may have known something that he couldn't piece together. Constructing a large, underground bunker. Stocking radiation suits. Maybe sabotaging colonies."
Trowa nodded in agreement, "That would point us to the people in OZ behind all this."
"Uh, guys..." Duo took a step to the edge of the walkway, gripping the cold metal rails as he gazed out on the bunker. "Large, underground bunker?" He pointed to the bare concrete ceiling. "Radiation suits?" His finger turned to the entrance to the Maguanac bunker, with all its decontamination equipment still in place. "Sabotaging colonies - like Operation Meteor? That doesn't sound like OZ, that sounds like us."
"Oh, fuck."
Chapter 11: Psalms
Characters: Trowa, Duo, Heero, Quatre
Rating: PG, for swearing and violence
Summary: (narrated by Ron Perlman)
In AC195, on the twentieth anniversary of the assassination of colonist leader Heero Yuy, war was waged once again. The colonies, clustered habitats housing millions of people, were dropped from their home in space.
In less than a day, the space faring humans had been wiped from the stars, the planet that had sheltered them for thousands of years reduced to ashes. For those that survived, it would be a new life, a new civilisation and a new struggle.
But this was still war.
And war never changes.
Word Count: 1528
Trowa sprinted down the bare corridor, Duo's footsteps slapping on the floor close behind him. They had both broke into a run the second the gunfire sounded out, needing no discussion, only quick reaction.
Seeing the dead-still figure of Heero standing in the corridor, he slowed down to a jog, trying to take in the scene. Shouldn't he be looking into the gunshot as well?
“Heero?” Trowa asked quietly as he stopped, the hall filling with silence after the final notes of Duo's slowing shoes. “Heero, what happened?” The boy was looking pale, much paler than usual. Standing there with the distraught expression on his face, he seemed to give literal meaning to the expression scared to death.
“Don't...” Heero raised his arm to block Trowa from going any further, simply stating the one word as if it could give all the explanation anyone would need.
“What's going on?” Trowa asked in retort, his hand briefly touching the restraining arm. He glanced past the arm, down the corridor to where he knew Relena's room lay. The gunshot... Relena... Heero, it all clicked into place as he stared blankly down the hall.
“Trowa?” Duo asked from behind when no response was forthcoming from either of them.
Trowa turned back, taking a hold of Heero's now strangely pliant arm to lay it over Duo's shoulder. “Take him back to our room.” He half ordered, half requested. “Don't ask, just... let me sort it out.”
Duo nodded slowly, no stranger to blank orders and little information. “Come on, then.” He quipped cheerily to Heero, dragging his morose comrade along with him. Trowa watched as they left with some trepidation, part of him wondering if it would a good idea leaving Duo with a soldier that could be so close to snapping.
It made it all the more surprising when Heero's head turned, silently giving him a look of thanks before he let Duo carry him away.
*
The room was not a pretty sight. Trowa had seen a lot of deaths in his short life, but suicide was always the most disturbing. There was something about them that you could just instantly recognise as soon as you saw their face - that is, assuming their face was recognisable. And despite Relena having bit the barrel of a gun, hers still was. Something about the gunshot going off inside the mouth would leave the head intact, and if there wasn't the fine spray of blood painting the wall behind her, it would have looked like she had missed.
“I'm sorry, Relena.” He didn't know what he was apologising for, but it seemed like the right thing to do. There was nothing, even in the most detached and analytical parts of his brain that could put reason in front of emotion while staring at the blood spattered young woman in front of him.
"Oh god." Breathed a voice from the far corner of the room. Lifting his eyebrows, Trowa turned to see Quatre staring across from the far corner of the room, hand delicately covering his mouth.
"Suicide." Trowa announced solemnly, reaching over to slide her lids over the vacant eyes. "She had a terminal dose of radiation. Can't blame her."
Quatre left the room shortly after that, only leaving behind a few pale words about grief and poor Heero. Trowa barely heard him, already busying himself with the thankless task of the undertaker. Pulling her body away from the wall by her ankles, letting her fall down flat to the gurney. Wrapping the bloodstained sheets over until she was encased in them, then pulling her wrapped body into the black canvas bag that had been seen far too often. Everything emotionless, everything methodical.
"I wish I knew what to say." Continued his low monologue to the dead girl he was preparing. "To you maybe, or to Heero. Everyone's putting on a brave face, but inside... we're slowly coming apart. At least I know I am. But we won't stop to fix it, because that's not what people do. We'll just... crumble. But what do I know?" He left Relena there, lying on the table in a body bag, but not before leaving one last thought. "What do I know? I'm fourteen. Fourteen and I was never meant to live past this operation. Maybe you had the right idea."
*
"How's Heero?"
"Emotionally distant, not speaking." Duo snorted, leaning back against Trowa's chest. "So no change, really."
They had both hidden themselves away in the hangar, perched on a gantry high above the vehicles below. A familiar place for the couple that wanted some privacy now and again, one of the few places on the base where their conversations could not be overheard, drowned out as they were by the sound of the mechanics below endlessly tinkering with the machines.
"So..." Trowa started, his hand haltingly coming to a rest on Duo's shoulder.
"So?" Came the confused reply of the other boy.
"What do we do? Wait to just die, like Relena?"
Duo snorted, "She hardly waited to die."
"Well, I say we don't wait. We're sitting around waiting for Quatre to find more information... what use is that information going to be?"
"Tro..." Twisting around in the embrace, Duo turned to face Trowa, reaching up to lay a hand on his check. "I know how you feel. You just want to do something, right?" A short nod under his hand. "We're creatures of action, I know. We're safe here, though. This isn't something we can fight."
They lay back there in the gantry, letting the silence stretch out before them as they each lost themselves in their own minds. Death, survival, the whole world. It was a situation that all the limitations of the human mind failed to grasp. The cracks of that failure were beginning to show.
"If we can't fight, what use are we?"
Duo's mouth opened and shut soundlessly a few times as his tongue failed to wrap itself around a response. He knew he should say something, something soothing, anything at all, but the words were just refusing to form. What use was he, after all, if he couldn't even be expected to produce platitudes? Fortunately, he was rescued from his responsibility by the ringing clank clank of heavy boots on the flexible metal walkways that lead up to the gantry.
"Heero?" Trowa called out as he recognised the approaching figure. He shared a look with his partner, silently pondering that the grieving boy should be out so soon. "What are you doing here?" He queried, just as the other boy climbed the final rungs of the ladder leading to their hidden platform.
"I'm tired of waiting." Heero sat down opposite the couple, crossing his legs and leaning slightly forward though refusing to make eye contact, keeping his head bowed. The tell-tale puff redness around his eyes said all that the boy refused to.
"Funny," Duo gave his boyfriend a brief, pointed look. "We were just talking about that. But we have no ideas."
"Find out what happened." Heero raised his head finally to look the other two in the eye, the force of his gaze not lessened by the evidence of his tears. "No... not what, why. It wasn't an accident. It happened for a reason."
"If we know why, we know what we can do." Duo finished for the other boy.
"Depending on what that why is." Trowa interjected.
"Or how we find it."
Heero nodded quietly along. "We do have one lead. Zechs Merquise."
Both the other boys seemed to ponder this for a moment, before Trowa queried, "He's still not awake... though, if he was caught up in the blast, how likely is it that he knew it was coming?"
"Unlikely, I admit." Heero replied, "But he may have known something that he couldn't piece together. Constructing a large, underground bunker. Stocking radiation suits. Maybe sabotaging colonies."
Trowa nodded in agreement, "That would point us to the people in OZ behind all this."
"Uh, guys..." Duo took a step to the edge of the walkway, gripping the cold metal rails as he gazed out on the bunker. "Large, underground bunker?" He pointed to the bare concrete ceiling. "Radiation suits?" His finger turned to the entrance to the Maguanac bunker, with all its decontamination equipment still in place. "Sabotaging colonies - like Operation Meteor? That doesn't sound like OZ, that sounds like us."
"Oh, fuck."