Insomnia Part One: Heero

by Angela

I couldn’t sleep.  It was crazy—I was so exhausted and I couldn’t sleep.  I rolled over and peered at the clock on the table.  2:30.  Fuck.  I’d been lying there for three and a half hours, unable to relax enough for even a short nap.  We had an important mission coming up—catching a few winks in the lounge of the Peacemillian assured us that we’d be together and ready to go when the time came.

 

I closed my eyes, and once more the image of that irritating girl filled my mind.  Relena.  I had at almost four hours to get through before dawn; was her face going to confront me every time I closed my eyes? 

 

How was I supposed to fight if I couldn’t even sleep?

 

I got up.  The floor was cold tile; I was careful not to gasp at the shock of its smooth surface against my warm feet.  They were all sleeping soundly and didn’t deserve to be bothered.  All except Duo—I knew he was just as alert as I was, no matter how quiet he’d been.  Not wanting to bother with a light, I picked my way through the dark lounge to the tiny kitchen.  Maybe a drink would help.

 

The light from the refrigerator hurt my eyes, so I grabbed a beer and quickly shut the door.  I didn’t usually drink—I didn’t want to risk losing my reaction time.  Tonight I didn’t give a damn.  I popped open the can and took a swig.  Ugh.  Bitter stuff.  I sat at the kitchen table, shoving Quatre’s sheet music onto the floor.  I was getting kind of tired of staying with the four of them on board this ship, but it’d have to do for a while, until we figured out what Zechs was up to and were finally able to end this war.  I still couldn’t figure out what a guy from the Peacecraft family was doing with a terrorist group like the White Fang.  Zechs would be better off backing his sister’s naive idea of total pacifism.  At least then he wouldn’t betray his own family.

 

Unbidden, the memory of meeting Relena at school that first day came to me.  I didn’t understand what was wrong with me, why I hadn’t been able to kill her like I should’ve.  She was pretty, but I’d seen lots of pretty girls, most of them not as strange as Relena Darlian, or Peacecraft, or whatever she called herself these days.  I shouldn’t have wasted another thought on her, but our paths kept crossing, and lately I’d kind of liked it. 

 

Weaknesses kill gundam pilots.  Relena Darlian is a weakness.  I couldn’t let her get me killed.  As I took another drink, another thought came to my mind.  I couldn’t let her be killed, either. 

 

What was wrong with me?  What did I care about that stupid girl and her ridiculous feelings?  I downed the rest of the beer and sat staring through the dark doorway.  What was is to me if she got herself killed?  Since when does a soft voice and long shiny hair obligate me?  She wasn’t my friend, and even though she said she was fighting on my side, how did I know?  If you fight me, you are my enemy.  Her father was my enemy. 

 

Trowa’s quiet face came to mind.  I once told him that it was all right for humans to act according to their feelings—maybe I should follow my own advice.  My own emotions.  What were they?  I suddenly felt a surge of resentment toward both Trowa and myself.  What did I know?  I hadn’t analyzed my emotions in years—who was I to hand out that kind of advice?

 

I jumped up to get another beer.

 

This time the light didn’t bother me, so I left the fridge open.  The yellow beam cast strange shadows on the walls.  I studied them.  I didn’t want to probe too deeply into my feelings.  I was sure there was some scary stuff down there, and I wasn’t ready to deal with it all.  With any of it.  With my eyes I followed the line between light and shadow across the wall.  I opened the beer, sipping it.  It didn’t taste so bad now, and I was starting to relax.  Maybe I would be able to sleep after all, even without digging into my psyche.

 

The light followed the contours of the walls, down the counter, toward the trashcan.  A folded newspaper lay on top, a creased picture beneath a bold headline.  Relena.  I jumped to my feet.  Relena?  Was she everywhere? 

 

I snatched up the paper, squinting in the semi-darkness.  It was her.  She smiled pleasantly, looking important and confident.  A girl like that didn’t need me worrying about her—she had bodyguards for that.  Was I worrying about her?  What the hell was wrong with me?  Why was I so obsessed with this girl?  I threw the paper onto the table and slammed the fridge shut, immersing myself in darkness.  I took a long drink.  It was time for me to figure this out.

 

Pacing across the room, I tried to uncover my feelings about Relena.  I wanted to protect her.  It was my duty as a soldier.  No.  I paused.  No, my mission was my duty.  Relena was something else.  I stopped being a soldier when she was in danger.  My urge to protect her went deeper than that.  I didn’t know how deep.  I didn’t want to know.

 

She seemed to have some kind of faith in me that was unreal.  Tracing patterns in the condensation on my beer can, I thought about that.  She seemed to know me so well.  She knew what I was going to do before I did, and worse, she knew what I was thinking.  That scared me.  We’d barely spoken, yet she acted like she had some insight into me.  I hated that.  

 

Not true.  The alcohol was making it harder for me to lie to myself.  She knew me.  No one else had bothered, but Relena knew me.  Seeing her, being seen by her, brought me some peace.

 

So why was I wide-awake in the middle of the night?

 

When I was with her, I felt awake, alive.  I closed my eyes, picturing her.  By now I had her memorized—her long legs and tiny waist, her hair, her eyes, her mouth.  I didn’t know if it was the beer or the direction of my thoughts, but I started to get warm all over.  I took off my tank top, tossing it onto the counter.  Sitting on the edge of the table, I finished my drink and contemplated a third.  She was beautiful.

 

I wanted her.  I crushed the can in my hand.  The urge was sudden and powerful.  Her image burned itself into me—her hair was tousled and her blouse unbuttoned, and— I growled.  I’d never felt like this before.  I wanted to hold her, and kiss her, to touch her.  To touch her everywhere.  Suddenly I ached with arousal.  Damn!  I wanted to sleep with Relena Darlian.  I wanted to know her, to have her.

 

“For the rest of my life,” I whispered out loud.

 

I couldn’t believe my own voice.  What the hell was I thinking?  I flung the smashed can onto the floor and headed back into the lounge.  Without caring how loudly I was walking, I hurried between my sleeping comrades and flung open the door to the bathroom, half-heartedly closing it behind me.  What was happening to me?  Flipping the light switch on and twisting the knob for the cold water, I splashed my face again and again.  The water was cold and shocking.  It cleared my head.

 

It was all right to be turned on by the girl.  I was fifteen—the only reason I hadn’t felt like this before was that I’d been too busy being a pilot to be a boy.  I stared into the mirror.  “For the rest of my life,” I repeated.  I looked like a stranger.  It was my hair and my eyes and my face—all streaming with water—but something didn’t make sense.  “What the fuck is wrong with you, Yuy?”  I didn’t answer myself.

 

I closed my eyes and saw an image of Relena, gazing up at me from an unmade bed.  Her hair was loose and she was naked—her eyes were large and insistent.  She said my name.  I let my imagination linger on her breasts, her stomach . . .   In my mind she reached up to me, asking me to help her. 

 

I stumbled forward, hitting my head on the mirror.  My eyes flicked open and looked back into themselves.  Get a hold of yourself, Heero!  I shook my head hard, trying to free myself of this obsession.  Staring at myself in the mirror, for a moment I saw Heero Yuy—gundam pilot and soldier.  I exhaled slowly, relieved.  The image faded quickly, though, to be replaced by the lingering daydream of her smiling face.

 

I stepped back a few steps, finding the closed toilet seat and collapsing onto it.  So Relena Darlian had finally gotten under my skin.  I couldn’t deny it anymore.  I didn’t care—all of a sudden I just wanted to go to sleep.  I bent over, resting my head on my knees.  My hair was wet and cold.  I had to think of some way to relax, to deal with this.  Even if it took the rest of the night.