A War Worth Fighting Part 19
The days following the infamous kiss that he'd shared with Duo had been the most mentally exhausting times of Heero's whole life. Never before did he feel so at odds with everything in his life.
While a part of him was relieved that he'd actually gone through with what his emotions were telling him, another part wished that he had never opened that door. Up until then, everything made sense. Everything he said and did had a purpose and a responsibility.
Now... now his feelings were added into the mix and all that he knew was being questioned.
Of course there was a reason to keep this Khushrenada happy after being such an influence to the Axis powers. He proved himself to be someone that they needed to keep on their side.
But was it right to hold someone against their will to be treated as a toy while playing the role of a bargaining chip? And now that that certain someone was a person whom Heero had been harboring feelings for...
Shaking his head at that, the sergeant sighed deeply and lay himself back on the couch that he had been sitting on to stare at the ceiling. Off in the distance, the muffled sound of the shower water running continued to drone on.
Much to Heero's appreciation, Duo had been patient and given him his space when he needed it once their feelings were out in the open. There was no taking back what had happened between them and yet when it became clear that there was a tension building, the braided soldier fell right back into their companionable friendship with a smile.
All the while, Maxwell never pushed or prodded the issue or made things uncomfortable between them. Whenever the officer needed to simply talk, he was there to listen and offer whatever support he could.
It was only solidifying the growing feelings that the officer was finally acknowledging. And they were becoming more and more difficult to ignore.
Groaning, Heero dry washed his face with his hands just as the shower water in the bathroom turned off. There were no easy answers to what was happening. There was no way of simply shutting out his duty or turning off his feelings. There was no direction to what to do in this situation.
Why the hell did this have to be so complicated?
"Hey," a friendly greeting reached his ears. Turning his head on the cushion that it was lying on, the sergeant's throat went instantly dry.
At the entrance of the living room, Duo stood wearing only a white towel tied around his waist as his loose and his damp hair clinging to him. Frowning in worry, he tilted his head a bit and asked, "Are you all right?"
No matter how many times he had seen his 'roommate' in his present state, it never ceased to stun the sergeant. Quickly recovering from his stupor, he pushed himself up from the couch and reassured in a rush, "I'm fine."
With a snort as his friend approached, the private smirked, "Sure." But he pressed the issue no further. Hairbrush in hand, he turned and led his companion to the bedroom where he sat on the edge of the bed.
Carefully moving to sit behind him, Heero took up the brush and gently went about his work of removing the knots from the long tresses. Aside from the sigh that escaped the long-haired soldier from time to time, there was only a companionable silence.
Since arriving at the flat, this had become a ritual of theirs. Until his back was completely healed without any concern of the wounds reopening or causing more pain than need be, Duo needed help with the chore. And the officer was all too happy to oblige in the chance to finally touch the strands as he had wished for some time.
Just as he has imagined, the hair felt as smooth and silky as it appeared.
Mixed with the relaxing sensation that came with the brushing there was also a strong sense of rage and guilt for Heero when he looked to the marks that were beginning to scar his friend's back. Unconsciously, his hand gripped tighter around the hair fisted in it and he heard a small whimper from his friend. Quietly offering an apology, he made sure to handle with more care.
Even then, Maxwell never pushed into knowing what was going through his mind.
By the time the brush went through every lock without hitching on a knot, Duo's mane was nearly dry. Methodically separating the hair into three sections, the sergeant tied it into the trademark braid and wove it at the end with a simple black band.
Like every other time before, Duo pulled the rope over his shoulder for an inspection. Grinning widely to the other soldier, he praised, "Nice job. You've officially become a pro at this."
Not quite feeling worthy of any compliment considering the circumstances, Heero gave a half-hearted smile that disappeared as quickly as it came. How could he deserve any kind words from the very person that he was keeping prisoner for someone else's sick needs?
Sighing, the private turned to face his comrade and said quietly, "All right. I can't sit back anymore when I know that there's something wrong. You've been moping around all day. So... what's going on?"
Much to his amazement, Heero was actually relieved to be asked instead of left alone. The words flowed out of him without much thought behind them as he replied, "It's just that I don't understand how you can be attracted to me or even nice to me when I am the last person on this earth that deserves that from you."
"I understand what your duty means to you," Duo began, only to be cut off when the other warrior shook his head in frustration.
All but shouting, the officer cried, "Fuck duty!" His violet eyes widening, the braided combatant blinked in shock as his equally stricken friend wiped his face with his hands.
Taking a few calming breaths, Heero stared into the eyes watching him. "You never did answer my question from that night," he stated in little more than a whisper. "If the tables in this situation were turned, where we were in each other's shoes, you never would have allowed something like this to go on... would you?"
Duo lowered his head with a deep sigh. Biting his lip, he finally spoke up after a long pause while staring at the edge of the towel that his hands were fiddling with. "I haven't answered because I honestly don't know the answer to that. Part of me wants to say that there is not a chance in hell I would carry out such orders... but another part would damn me for going against what my superiors believe would be best for my country."
Slowly raising his braided head, he shrugged, "I can't give you a clear answer on that. And to be perfectly honest, it's why there is a small part of me that's glad I'm not the one in your place. There are too many variables involved... personal values, the code of honor with the service and others... All not all of them can win out with whatever you choose to do."
And that was the long and short of exactly what Heero's dilemma was. Releasing the breath that he had been holding, the officer lowered his own head and nodded shallowly.
With a rough laugh, Duo ran a hand through his bangs and continued, "You're not the only one stuck between a rock and a hard place, pal. I know that at any point, I could just walk through this door and you would never come after me. Hell, you'd give me a few days worth of a head start before you told anyone I was gone."
Heero nodded again, unable to look up while a lump formed in his throat. Leaning forward, the private frowned, "But I know doing that would put you on the spot. And as I said once before, I just can't do that to you."
Small tears formed in his own violet eyes as he breathed, "Do you have any idea of the time I'm having, knowing that I can leave all of this behind me and not being able to because I feel this loyalty towards you? After all the times you stuck your neck out for me, whether it was for this goddamned mission or not, I can't leave you behind to pay for it."
Raising his head at that, the officer cast his shimmering gaze on his friend. "So it's only loyalty for what I've done that's keeping you here?" he questioned brokenly. "You don't owe me anything. I have done nothing for you that would be worth your staying for what is coming."
A small, sad smile tugged Duo's lips at that. Wiping a stray tear, he admitted, "Well... it's more than just loyalty. I actually do kinda like ya."
Unable to help the small chuckle at that, Heero shook his head in amusement and forced his tears back. Resting their foreheads together, he whispered, "I kind of love you, too." Almost tentatively, he tilted his head and leaned in to kiss the other soldier soundly.
It was nothing like the heated exchange they first shared days ago. But the gentle caress was every bit as breathtaking.
When they pulled away, the pair just smiled at each other for a moment before Heero rose to his feet. "You better get changed. 1945 is only a few hours away."
Grinning mischievously, Duo asked, "Think I'll get another one of those kisses at midnight?"
The sergeant smirked, "I'm sure that will be in the cards." Winking, he turned on his heel and closed the bedroom door behind him on the way out.
His smile growing, Duo lowered himself onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "1945," he mused aloud. "Wonder what's in store this year."
* * * * * *
Sylvia looked out the window of her home to the brilliantly lit streets of Hiroshima and sighed. Another lonely year come and gone. With any luck, this would be the last New Year's with a war.
Heading over to the mantle above the fireplace, she looked over the picture frames resting there. With a sad smile, she looked over the images of her wedding day. No one had any idea that she was already a month along in pregnancy at the time. It was a special little secret only she and her husband, Masato, shared.
That was, of course, until it came time for the delivery. By then, everyone in their families were so happy to welcome the baby that they completely overlooked the mote details behind how he came about.
One of the pictures showed the two families joined around Sylvia and Masato as they held their little son. In another image there was a shot of her father, Odin, carrying the little bundle with a wide grin.
Even to this day, she could still here her 'old man' advising her son as he grew to act on his emotions. It was the same advice he had given her all her life. It was the same notion that led her to her love.
With a heavy heart, Sylvia took up the picture of Masato in his flight gear as he smiled proudly in front of his plane. Handsome and rugged as ever, the man always did like to live life on the edge. Had she known that such an ambition would have taken him away, the young woman would never have let him set foot near a plane.
Carefully replacing the frame, she moved to the next and ran a hand gently over it. Inside was the last picture that she had taken with her son before he left for the army.
All grown up at the tender age of eighteen at the time, he was a remarkable handsome young man in his uniform. Despite the seriousness of his garb, he managed to offer a little smile for the camera as he wrapped an arm around his mother's shoulders.
Those striking, blue eyes of his held the same sense of readiness and pride that his father's brown eyes held whenever he'd set out to train for the air force. The saying did go 'like father like son.'
One could only hope that the comment did not also suggest that they would share the same fate.
Just his wish to join the war had caused a slight rift with Sylvia's family. Being Americans themselves, they were quite upset to learn that one of their own was joining the fight against the Allies. But he was her son. And this was the home that his father had died for- the home he wished to be able to protect one day.
Where she stood as far as the war was concerned did not matter. She would stand behind her child as any mother would no matter what country's uniform he wore. It was his heart that made him who he was. And it was a good heart.
Just like his father's.
Fighting back tears as she lowered her hand from the image, Sylvia breathed, "Heero." Slowly walking back to the living room window, she smiled sadly, "Happy New Year, son... wherever you are." [1]
* * * * * *
"Thirty seconds to midnight!" Duo called from the living room couch after checking the ornate clock on the wall across from him. Heero entered soon after with a glass of wine in each hand before sitting beside his friend.
Grinning as he accepted his offered drink, the braided private kept his eyes on the second hand and counted down, "Five... Four... Three... Two... One! Happy-" His words were cut off when the sergeant cupped the side of his face to turn it towards him for a fierce deep kiss.
Only taken aback for a moment, Duo was readily quick to respond to the exchange in kind. When they pulled back, Heero looked into the other soldier's eyes and grinned breathlessly, "Happy New Year."
Still catching his own wind, Maxwell replied, "Happy New Year, 'Ro." Chuckling, he winked, "Seemed pretty damned anxious for that kiss."
A slight blush coloring his cheeks, the officer reached for the glasses that he had set on the table and shrugged, "Well, you were the one that said you wanted a kiss at midnight." Handing over one of the drinks to his friend, he smirked, "You've been on good behavior so I thought that I might as well oblige."
Duo snickered and shook his head. "Play coy all you want, Blue Eyes," he retorted. "You can't convince me that you didn't enjoy that." Before his companion could come up with a witty response, he looked to his glass and asked, "So what do we toast to for 1945?"
Chewing on the inside of his cheek in thought for a moment, Heero held up his glass with a small smile. "To the end of the war... whatever the outcome might be."
More that happy with that toast, the private raised his own glass as they met between them. The warm, high-pitched chime filled the air before they threw the wine back.
Outside, the sound of a loud pop had the pair nearly jumping off the couch. Wide-eyed, they looked through the window just in time to see a white shimmer of light that faded through the clearing in the trees. Another pop and glow appeared soon after.
Quickly climbing to their feet, the soldiers ran outside and peered to the heavens. All around the perimeter of the flat, miles out, fireworks lit the sky in a variety of colors.
"Clearly we're not the only ones celebrating," Heero grinned as the heavens continued to shine. "It would appear that our guards snuck in some items to help with festivities."
Peering out the corner of his eye, Duo chuckled, "Are you going to report them for going against protocol?"
"No," the sergeant replied quietly as he continued to watch the display with a childlike wonder. "Better to let them have some fun for a change. Besides, we get to enjoy this, too."
Duo's smile grew as he bent his neck to rest his head on his friend's shoulder. "Happy New Year, Ro," he said in little more than a whisper while gazing back up to the show.
Wrapping his arms around the other combatant's waist, Heero replied in kind, "Happy New Year, Duo."
* * * * * *
January 8, 1945.
Locked away in the lavish hotel room that he had been staying in since his arrival in Germany, Treize closed the door to the bedroom.
No doubt the cleaning staff would not be pleased when they came through. Though they were not likely to be surprised by anything that they found in Khushrenada's bedroom by now.
Poor lad had certainly put up with quite a good deal before he died. As his only outlet in releasing his frustration, Treize had held nothing back during his 'game'.
On this bleak day, Hitler was calling back his soldiers at the tip of the small bulge that they had made in the Allied lines out in the Ardennes.
It was the beginning of the end, no matter how stubborn the man was by not calling all of his forces back in the vain hope that they could regain their initial momentum.
Nearly six hundred tanks and well over a thousand aircraft were lost. And the casualties... those figures were already well on the way to reaching one hundred thousand. By the time the battle was officially over and the dust settled, there were sure to be more soldiers killed or missing than that incredible figure.
There was nothing that could be done now. Within weeks, the Allies would be pushing into Germany. They made their presence known and were well on their way to winning the war in Europe.
For Treize, it was clearly time to dust himself off, cut his losses and make some new friends.
After washing the blood from his hands, the informer threw his winter coat over himself and placed a matching hat on his head. Taking the handle of a packed suitcase in either hand, he stepped from his hotel room and closed the door behind him.
Time to make good on Emperor Hirohito's extension of camaraderie.
TBC...
[1] Obviously, I am aging Sylvia quite a bit here-early forties or late thirties. I just wanted another GW character to play the role of Heero's mother instead of creating an OC.
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