Fic: A Crack in the Doorway

[catscradle]

Nothin' sez lovi'n like a deathfic. . . Here's number 2:



A Crack in the Doorway

Stephanie
September 2002


Disclaimer: This is a work of amateur non-profit fiction and is not
intended to infringe on the rights of Sunrise, Sotsu Agency, Asahi
TV, and Bandai Visuals.

Rated: PG
Characters: Pilots (Trowa-centric)
Setting: Episode 44, on Peacemillion
Status: Complete
Warning: Deathfic


_________________________________



He was usually neutral to his orders. It was his job to follow them,
no more or less. But in the past few months he had come to think of
Heero Yuy as more than simply a fellow soldier. He was a comrade.
Maybe even a friend, if he would allow himself to use the term. Heero
would not and he had always thought of Heero as a soldier better than
himself.

Trowa read over his orders again. He had verified them twice,
something he had never bothered to do before now. He was always
efficient Once was enough. This time, he had thought to do it a third
time, when he stopped himself. The orders would not change. Heero
Yuy: Rogue. Terminate.

It was more than possible that Heero had changed sides. A few months
earlier he had thrown himself on the mercy of the Noventas after
having killed their patriarch. And according to reports Trowa had
intercepted from Oz, Heero had tried to kill the scientists when he
gained access to the new Wing Zero system. Though it was inconclusive
if it was of his own volition or if the system had affected his
reasoning the way it did Quatre's. That was possible. But also
irrelevant. If the system had driven him mad, it would be necessary
to terminate him. Trowa made the mistake with trusting Quatre.

Quatre

Time had proven that a pilot could recover from Zero. Quatre was
with them again. It had only taken Trowa's own near death and a few
choice words to bring Quatre back.

Trowa deleted the orders and shut off his terminal. He walked over to
the small viewport in his quarters on the Peacemillion and stared out
into space. He shuddered, remembering the feel of the cold vacuum he
drifted through after his encounter with Quatre. But he could not
blame Quatre, or even Heero for that matter if the report was true.
Zero acted adversely on the mind. It had given Trowa his memories
back, but not without a price. The visions it had induced . . .

Trowa turned from the viewport and sat at the edge of his cot. He
pulled his sidearm from the sheath and studied the weapon for a
moment. He had pulled it on Heero once before on Barge. It was only
partly an act.

He looked closer. It wasn't the same gun. The serial number at the
base was different. Odd, the things he remembered.

He reached down to his knapsack, pulled out a silencer and attached
it to the gun without more thought.


* * *


"Ha! I took one of your pawns!" Duo's malign laugh echoed throughout
Peacemillion as he swiped the piece from the board.

"Hn." Trowa cocked his head to the side and made his next move. He
took Duo's knight from the board without ceremony. "Your turn."

Duo stared at the board for a moment. "Hey, wait a minute!" He
scratched his head. "That was bad, wasn't it?"

Trowa nodded.

Duo pursed his lips and consulted the rule book that came with the
chess set. "Okay, okay . . . not beyond recovery here . . . " He
tucked a stray hair behind his ear and looked back up. "Quatre, hurry
up with that soda and get over here! I need a little help."

Quatre laughed and headed over to the table where Trowa and Duo sat
in combat. "It's not really fair to Trowa if I help you, Duo."

"Fair?" Duo scoffed. "I've never played the damn game before and
this guy is some sort of ringer!"

"Not really," Wufei said. He was leaning up against the wall with his
arms folded and eyes closed. "He barely knows what he's doing
himself."

Trowa glanced at Wufei and then turned back to Duo. "Are you going to
play or are you still consulting your panel?" Heero then walked in
the room carrying a plate of food. Trowa watched him from the corner
of his eye as Heero sat down at the end of the table, away from the
rest of them.

"Hold on, hold on, I'm thinking here . . . hardly a game to relax to
after fighting all day," Duo muttered under his breath.

"You picked the game," Trowa reminded him.

"Yeah, I know." Duo tucked his hand under his chin and studied the
board intently. "It's the only game on this ship." He paused for a
moment and smirked. "Unless playing shuffleboard with space mines is
more to your taste."

Trowa folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. He looked back
over to Heero, who barely touched the food on his plate. He was
staring into the salisbury steak and mash potatoes. Not too odd, most
of them had done the same thing earlier. But quality of food had
never bothered Heero in the past. Like Trowa, Heero saw food as
necessary and not something to be enjoyed.

Duo finally moved a pawn and Trowa leaned forward and took his rook.

"Hey!"

"Don't just move the pawns around the board," Trowa said, "use a
strategy."

Duo tilted his head from side to side. "Use a strategy," he
mocked. "I'm a pilot not a general!"

Trowa shrugged.

"Looks like Howard is nearly done with the repairs," Quatre said.

"Hm, yeah, Howard's really efficient," Duo picked up his remaining
rook and was about to place it down when Quatre shook his head.

"You might want to protect your queen, Duo." Quatre offered.

"Gee, thanks Quatre," Duo said dryly.

Wufei moved from his spot against the wall, took Duo's bishop and
knocked one of Trowa's knights down. "Check."

"An excellent play," Trowa said.

"Uh, thanks." Duo cocked his head to the side and studied the
board. "What exactly did you do there, buddy?"

Wufei took his place back against the wall and folded his arms. "You
need a stronger offense. You weaken yourself when you only play
defensively."

"Hey, thanks for the tip," Duo smiled. He turned toward Heero. "You
wanna play, Heero?"

Heero said nothing. He did not even acknowledge that he had been
spoken to with his typical nod or grunt. He remained transfixed on
his uneaten food. Trowa took a sip of his drink and watched the
others as they reacted to Heero's despondency. They all saw it now.

"Are you okay, Heero?" Quatre asked with a tone of concern in his
voice. Heero still did not respond.

The alarm rang out. Any thoughts on Heero's strange demeanor
disappeared as they turned their focus back to the war.


* * *

For the second time Heero had disappeared in battle to fight Zechs
Merquise alone. Or so he said. The rest of the pilots were occupied
fighting the mobile dolls. There was no chance for them to see what
Heero was doing. He wasn't with them, that much was sure. And Zechs
remained alive on board the Libra.

It was possible he told the truth, Zechs and Heero had fought to
stalemate on more than one occasion, but right now they needed Heero
with them. Quatre was in command of the team and they had a strategy.
If Heero worked with them, they could better defeat the dolls and
turn their full directed attention to the Libra. Heero was not
effective fighting alone.

Trowa leaned against the wall of the corridor and stuck his hands in
his pockets. What was Heero doing? Why wouldn't he talk to any of
them?

His orders were to terminate Heero. That's all he had to do. But his
instincts told him that killing Heero would bring about worse
circumstances. As a soldier, Heero was the best of them. He might
know something that they didn't. But why didn't he tell any of them
what he was doing? The argument always came back to that. Did he
really feel that he still couldn't trust them? They were all used to
working alone, but as the war progressed, they all came to realize
they needed each other. Even Wufei.

"Trowa?"

He looked up, "Quatre." The other pilot was walking down the corridor
toward the hanger. Trowa took his hands out of his pocket and
crossed his arms.

"What are you doing in the hall?" Quatre asked.

"Just thinking," Trowa said. "Are you going to make more repairs?"

"No," Quatre shook his head. He looked back down the corridor at the
door to the hanger. "I just wanted to talk to Heero before he leaves."

"Before he leaves?" Trowa turned his gaze in the same direction as
Quatre's. "Where is he going?"

"I think to Relena," Quatre said. "Hilde told Duo that Miss Relena
was on board the Libra and he told Heero. I think he's going to her
to see if they can stop Zechs."

Trowa looked down at the floor for a moment and then back to
Quatre. "Let me talk to him. We spent a lot of time together while he
was recovering from his injuries. Maybe he'll tell me what he's
planning to do."

"Can't we go together, Tro--"

"No," Trowa cut in and shook his head. "He's been unwilling to tell
us much of anything. I think there is a better chance of him talking
to one of us than to a group."

Quatre narrowed his eyes on Trowa as though to protest, but only
said, "If you think that's best Trowa . . . I guess you do know him
a little better than the rest of us."

Trowa nodded and turned to walk toward the hanger. "I'll let you know
what I find out."

Quatre frowned, but turned back to the main deck. "Okay, Trowa."


* * *

Trowa stood on the catwalk overlooking the hanger. He watched from a
distance, covered by a pillar, as Heero prepared Wing Zero for
departure. He wondered if Heero knew he was there. He probably did,
even if didn't know why. Or cared.

Heero was going to make a break for the Libra, his reasons known only
to him. Whether it was to save Relena, to join Relena in stoping
Zechs or to join up with Zechs, Trowa wasn't sure. He didn't believe
it was the latter though. The scientists were wrong, he determined.
Heero wouldn't join Zechs just because it now appeared as though he
would win. Heero didn't join a cause to win. Heero did what he
thought was right. Trowa did believe, however, that Heero was acting
on his own -- irrationally. He was a loose canon and a threat to
their mission if he got in the way - and if Heero's own ideas
conflicted with the team's, then whatever small chance they had to
win this conflict was in jeopardy.

Heero understood that they needed to fight as a team in order to win.
Why then did he refuse to fight with them?

Trowa aimed his gun on Heero.

He didn't fire.

Billions of lives on the Earth were at risk. They had to win. There
wasn't a choice. If the Earth was eliminated there would be another
war. There were many colonists with family back on Earth, they would
retaliate. It wouldn't stop, Zechs was mistaken. He took a deep
breath and aimed again.

And didn't fire.

He kept his aim on Heero, but doubt once again flooded his mind. What
if Heero truly was the only one who could win this war? Perhaps he
had good reason not to tell them what he was doing. Maybe telling
them would put his mission at risk. And even if Heero had lost his
reason to Zero, he might still have a piece to play in this war.

And why was Trowa thinking of any of this at all. His orders were
plain. Heero must be terminated.

But then the scientists weren't exactly pillars of sanity.

He wanted to scream. It wasn't supposed to be complicated. You
followed orders and left the reasoning to those with the power.
Operation Meteor was the first assignment he had where the soldier
was left to make many of the decisions on his own.

For the most part it wasn't difficult, the enemy was obvious and not
very bright. But now he was hiding on a catwalk with his gun trained
on a friend.

He sighed. He wasn't going to do it. He knew he wasn't going to do
it. But he couldn't move. He was disobeying a direct order and he was
paralyzed. He watched Heero enter the cockpit, not knowing what Heero
was about to do and Trowa was going to let him go.

There was a creak on the catwalk and Trowa spun around, his gun aimed
at whatever was coming toward him - but he didn't fire.

He held back long enough to see the blond hair moving toward him.

"Trowa!"

Quatre's gun fired, and Trowa realized he still had his gun aimed at
Quatre. He fell back on the catwalk, stunned as he felt the bullet
rip through his chest.

There was a loud cry and Trowa was surprised to realize it had not
come from himself. "Forgive me, Trowa . . . " Quatre placed his palm
over the chest wound as he tried to staunch the flow of blood. "Why
didn't you drop your weapon when I called out to you?"

Trowa could feel Quatre's hand quake over his wound. Odd that it
would end this way. It wasn't fair to Quatre. He always knew there
was a bullet out there for him, but it shouldn't have been Quatre's.

"I didn't want to believe my orders . . . " Quatre cried, still
trying desperately to stop the blood. It was a little use, the range
was too close. He wanted to tell Quatre to stop trying, he was dead,
but he couldn't move or talk. "I didn't believe it till just now.
They said the accident made you unstable . . . They said you were
sending back strange reports . . . I know it's not your fault, but I
couldn't let you kill him. I couldn't let you kill Heero!" Quatre was
sobbing now, and Trowa hoped Duo would be able to calm him when it
was over. "Stay with me, Trowa, help is coming." Quatre's voice
faded. The last he heard was the grave voice of Quatre Raberba Winner
pleading with him to stay alive.

Trowa closed his eyes for the last time. It was all finally over.


end