Hope From the Past - Part 9 by
Keara
Standard disclaimers apply
//Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real//
“Crawling” by: Linkin Park
Heero anxiously awaited as the elevator transported him deeper into
the base. Behind him, Trowa stood, waiting just as anxiously. Heero
wanted to get to the infirmary and find out if Duo was feeling better.
He had to know whether the young man was recovering or not. He didn’t
know why, but he had a strange feeling that things were not going
well. However, he couldn’t explain to even himself why he had
such a bad gut feeling.
When the elevator doors opened, he all but ran down the corridor,
Trowa following behind him at the same brisk pace. It had been days
since they had left for the meeting with the Nomads, days since either
of them had seen the two young men that they had rescued. Neither
of them were sure why they felt so strongly so soon for these two
youths, but they did and they wanted to make sure that nothing happened
to hurt them ever again.
As soon as he reached the door of the infirmary, Heero stopped short,
his breath catching in his throat. Duo was gone. Had something happened
to the long-haired youth? Trowa rushed past Heero, quickly striding
over to Quatre’s bedside. Numbly, wondering what was going on,
Heero followed, hoping that the blonde would have some answers. However,
when he got to the bed, he found that the blonde was unconscious and
looking even more ill than he had been when Heero and Trowa had left.
Quatre was hooked up to a respirator now, his skin a deathly pale
shade. He looked even thinner than before . . . if that was possible.
Quatre looked close to the brink of death. Heero did not understand
this. Where was Duo and why was Quatre in such a poor condition? And
where were Catherine and Meiran? They were supposed to be keeping
them company. Had something happened?
Just then, Sally stalked into the room. The moment that she saw Quatre,
and the empty place where Duo’s bed had been, she grabbed one
of the medical technicians by the collar. “What the hell is
going on here?” She demanded, the vein in her temple throbbing
almost visibly with barely controlled anger. “Where’s
the other patient? And what happened to this one?” She asked,
gesturing angrily toward Quatre.
“I transferred that other one to an isolation room.”
A snide voice spoke up.
“What? How could you?” Heero gasped, his eyes wide with
shock as he turned to look at this doctor . . . no, this fool.
Sally let go of the technician’s shirt and stepped over to
the doctor. “You did what? Why did you move him?” Sally
asked.
“He was violent. He threw me across the room without so much
as touching me physically. I had no choice but to transfer him to
somewhere where he could be more closely watched.” The doctor
replied calmly. “And I dismissed those women. They weren’t
needed here. They did nothing but interfere with the maintenance of
this medical station.”
Sally pulled back her arm, throwing her fist forward and striking
the man directly in the center of his face. A loud snap echoed through
the room, and Heero watched with smug satisfaction as the doctor cried
out and pressed his hands over his now bleeding nose.
“You idiot! These are torture victims! They’re scared
and cling to each other and familiar faces out of necessity!”
Sally yelled. “Go and bring Duo back here, and get me his charts,
I want to know how he’s doing.”
The doctor nodded, tears prickling in his eyes as he turned and walked
away. He said nothing in his defense. Sally turned her attention to
Quatre, as did Heero. The two of them joined Trowa beside the blonde’s
bedside, Sally looking over his charts to find out why his health
had declined so considerably.
“I can’t see any reason why he should be this bad off.”
Sally commented, frowning as she went over the chart. “We’ll
just have to hope that when Duo is returned he’ll recover again.”
They didn’t have to wait long for Duo to be returned. However,
Heero was quite appalled to see that Duo was deep in a coma, his heartbeat
at a dangerously low rate. And to top it off, he was restrained to
his bed by leather straps, as if Duo could actually do anything in
his weakened condition. He hadn’t been able to lift his hand
when Heero had left, let alone get up and walk anywhere. Before his
bed was even set in the right place, Heero was by his side and pulling
at the straps, quickly freeing Duo’s wrists and ankles.
He stood beside Duo’s bed, holding onto one of his bony hands,
hoping that the young man would recover. He had nothing else to do.
He was a soldier, not a doctor . . . so this was all he could do.
He silently offered his companionship, feeling that somehow Duo knew
he was there for him. It was an unusual and strange feeling, but it
was there . . . somehow Duo knew that Heero was here for him. That
made him feel better at least.
*****
Trowa had been sitting beside Quatre’s bedside for hours. Meiran
and Catherine had returned, giving apologies, explaining things. He
understood what had happened now. That stupid doctor, it was all his
fault. He should never have reacted as he had. It wasn’t Duo’s
fault that the man had frightened him into reacting so bluntly. Duo
had been scared. It was quite amazing that he could use his mind like
that though, and left Trowa wondering if Quatre could do the same.
Slowly, Quatre’s eyes drifted open. Trowa’s attention
was completely focused on the pale blonde, clasping his hand lightly
in fear that he would hurt him, waiting and watching as the young
man slowly awakened. Beautiful aquamarine eyes turned toward Trowa,
blinking tiredly up at him. Quatre weakly reached up, his fingers
brushing over the surface of the oxygen mask covering his nose and
mouth. The hand fell away after only a few seconds, portraying just
how weak Quatre was at the moment.
Trowa smiled, gently pulling the mask down and off of Quatre’s
face. “I was worried about you.” Trowa said, taking hold
of Quatre’s hand again.
Quatre’s eyes filled with shimmering tears which fell down
along the sides of his face to dampen his pillow. “Duo?”
He whimpered through chapped lips.
Trowa brushed his hand through Quatre’s hair, allowing his
hand to linger on the side of Quatre’s face in the hope that
he would be able to comfort him even slightly. “Duo’s
back . . . Heero’s watching over him.” Trowa said. “He
won’t be moved again, I promise.”
Quatre’s smile lit up the room, even as weak as it was. It
was just a great relief to Trowa to see him smiling again. Quatre
raised his hand, his fingers lightly brushing against one of Trowa’s
cheeks. Trowa knew that the cool hand would fall soon, so he reached
up, laying his hand against Quatre’s, offering his help in holding
it there.
Quatre smiled again. “I believe you.” He rasped. “Thank
you.”
Trowa nodded, lowering Quatre’s hand to the bed again, then
placing the mask over his face once more. “Get some rest. I’ll
be here when you wake up again.” Trowa said, curling his fingers
through the young man’s blonde strands.
Quatre made no reply, he just simply closed his eyes. In a matter
of moments, he drifted off to sleep again, his weary body apparently
needing all the rest it could get. Trowa stayed where he was, holding
Quatre’s hand, brushing his thumb over the back of it idly,
just hoping for the recovery of the young man that he had grown fond
of.
*****
Wufei pressed the buzzer beside Meiran’s door and straightened
his clothes one last time and made sure that the gift he had was sufficiently
covered. It was only wrapped in some old rag, tied with a bit of string,
but it was the best he could do . . . wrapping paper was no longer
manufactured, there was no use for it now but as kindling for a fire.
Still, he wanted the gift to look at least relatively okay. He had
never given a gift to anyone before. Even if it was only something
that he had found in an abandoned city, it was something that he thought
Meiran would like.
Mentally, he berated himself for being so nervous. ‘Calm down,
it’s just . . .’ The thought was left unfinished as the
door opened and Wufei blinked in surprise. “Meiran?” He
asked, almost not believing his eyes.
Meiran was wearing a knee-length blue, cotton dress, and it was obviously
handmade . . . most clothing was handmade now, if not issued by the
garment manufacturers, but dresses weren’t made at all, for
lack of a practical use. Meiran must have made it herself. It must
have cost her quite a good deal to afford dyed fabric. Wufei had never
seen the young woman in anything besides the usual jeans or other
such clothing. It made quite the difference to her appearance. She
even had left her hair loose.
“You look lovely.” Wufei blurted out, feeling foolish
for not having come up with something better to say. Could he think
of nothing more original than that? He would have slapped himself
in the forehead if he didn’t think it would only serve to embarrass
him further.
Meiran blushed a little, ducking her head shyly. “Thank you.
I know that it isn’t very practical, but . . .” Then she
cleared her throat. “Please, come in.” She smiled, stepped
back and allowing Wufei to enter her quarters.
Wufei bowed a little and stepped into the room. It was modest, regulation
size, the same as his place except for the fact that it was made to
actually look like a home. Whereas Wufei’s domicile was lacking
in anything but functional objects, nothing personal, Meiran’s
had various knickknacks littering the surfaces. There was nothing
truly special, just things she had collected over the years from the
wasteland the outside world had become. Some of this stuff could be
very valuable though, if she wanted to sell it on the black market.
Wufei turned as Meiran closed the door. He cleared his throat, suddenly
feeling very nervous about his gift. She had so many things, would
she want the object he had? “I . . . I found something that
I thought you might like.” He said, and handed her the cloth-covered
item. He waited, trying to keep from shifting from foot to foot in
nervousness while she unwrapped the object. He bit into his bottom
lip as the little glass figurine was revealed. It was chipped, but
not badly . . . and he had cleaned it up as best as he could. Wufei
recognized the creature it depicted as a dolphin . . . a creature
that was now thought extinct. It was a lovely bluish gray color and
it looked sleek. Wufei had seen a picture of one in a book once. He
hoped that Meiran liked it.
He was quite relieved when Meiran smiled in delight. “It’s
beautiful. Thank you.” She said, leaning forward and giving
him a quick peck to the cheek.
Wufei blinked, at a loss for words. A faint blush crept to his cheeks,
his hand reaching up to brush where Meiran had so quickly kissed him
a moment ago. By then, Meiran had moved on to another part of the
room, having placed his gift to her on a shelf. At least she hadn’t
seen him blushing . . . he was grateful for that. That could have
been quite embarrassing.
Dinner went well. Although it was only rations and water, it was
the company that made it pleasant. Conversation ranged from the weather
above ground, to the medical conditions of Duo and Quatre. Wufei was
appalled to learn of how Duo had been treated, upset to know that
neither youth was faring well right now. Eventually though, the topic
drifted to that of the Taltheans and Wufei’s spirits dampened
when he noticed Meiran becoming quiet. He tried to think of some way
to change the subject, of something more cheerful, but came up empty
and so they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.
When it was apparent that neither of them were going to eat anymore,
Wufei decided he had better apologize. “I am sorry . . . I should
have not allowed the Taltheans to come up in conversation. I will
go if you wish.” He offered, bowing his head slightly. When
Meiran said nothing in reply, Wufei took it to mean that she did want
him to leave. He pushed himself away from the table and moved to rise
to his feet.
He stilled himself however, as Meiran’s hand shot out to clasp
his wrist. “No, don’t leave.” She replied, her gaze
lowered and focused away from him. “There is something I wish
to tell you, Wufei . . . something I need to tell you before we can
attempt to continue this relationship. That is if you do want to continue
it.” She raised her eyes, looking to him sadly.
Wufei nodded. “Yes, I would be honored to pursue a relationship
with you, Meiran. You are lovely, intelligent, and I have yet to find
a woman so strong of spirit.” He said, hoping to cheer her with
compliments.
The effect was totally the opposite of what Wufei had anticipated.
Instead of smiling, tears fell from her eyes to drip from her chin.
She covered her face with her hands, worrying Wufei quite a bit. It
was a moment before she was able to bring herself under control again.
“Did I say something wrong?” Wufei asked, deeply concerned.
Meiran shook her head. “No, what you said was just beautiful.”
She smiled faintly. “I just don’t know if it is meant
for me though. There are some things you do not know about me.”
“Then tell me. I will feel no differently toward you.”
Wufei said, reaching across the table and laying his hand over hers.
Meiran nodded. She took in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, readying
herself for whatever she was about to disclose. “As you know,
I was once a prisoner in one of the labor camps.” She said.
“Yes, one of the teams of rebels liberated the camp you were
imprisoned in. I know of this. Is this what you wanted to tell me?”
“Let me finish, please.” She said, pausing for a moment
until Wufei nodded. “What you do not know is that sometimes
the prisoners were taken from the camp and used for various experiments.
I was one of those taken . . . I was one of only a handful that ever
returned. And the ones that did return all died before we were liberated,
so my secrets have so far remained safely hidden.”
“Secrets?” Wufei asked, his heart racing in his chest.
He feared she had something dire to tell him. Had her life been shortened?
Was she scarred in some way? If they had hurt her, Wufei would hunt
them all down and kill them himself . . . or he would give it his
best shot anyway.
“I . . . I was taken to a lab. I do not remember much, but
I was given a medical examination, I was drugged to keep me from fighting.
Then one of them began touching me in a less than medical manner .
. . I was barely fourteen . . . they wanted ‘ripe’ young
girls for their experiments.” She grimaced distastefully, her
eyes going distant, as if she was disconnecting herself from her words,
her tone droning out the words with a detachment. “Then he was
on top of me . . . all four of his hands groping me in unpleasant
ways.” She chuckled humorlessly. “I was raped, impregnated,
and used as host for their experiment in hybrids.” She shook
her head, tears spilling from her eyes like rivers.
Wufei was shaking with rage. Those bastards had dared to touch so
lovely a flower such as Meiran? He could barely contain his anger
over this disgraceful action. Still, he did not want to frighten Meiran.
She had to know that his anger was directed at the Taltheans and not
at her. “I have no words.” He admitted honestly. “I
am angry that such an injustice was forced upon you.” He sighed.
“Yet, I care for you just as much as I ever have. But I fear
I must ask . . . do you know what became of this hybrid child you
carried?”
Meiran frowned. “It died. I miscarried after only a few weeks.
That’s why I was returned to the camp. I was no longer useful
to them. They only wanted fresh girls.” She paused, then looked
to him with hope vibrant in her eyes. “Did you really mean what
you said? You still care for me?”
Wufei smiled as he nodded. “Of course I do. I see you just
as I saw you an hour ago . . . you are a beautiful flower, a lovely
young lady who has claimed my heart as her own. There is nothing I
wouldn’t do for you.”
Meiran blushed, but rose from her seat and rushed around the table,
throwing herself into his arms. Wufei held her carefully, fearful
of hurting her in any way. She clung to him like a frightened child
seeking reassurance and he was more than happy to oblige her. “Thank
you, Wufei.” She sobbed. “You don’t know how happy
it makes me to hear you say that. I have been waiting so long to tell
you, but I feared you would hate me if you discovered the truth.”
“I could never hate you. I love you too much for that.”
He said, his eyes widening the moment he realized what he had said.
Had he let that slip . . . had he actually said that he loved her?
Meiran pulled herself away, her eyes also wide. “You . . .
you love me?” She asked, tracks of tears marring her cheeks.
“Do you mean it?”
“I would not say it if I did not mean it.” He responded,
knowing it to be true.
Meiran’s smile was brighter and more glorious than the sun
at that moment. “I love you too, Wufei.” She exclaimed,
then delicately pressed her lips to his. The kiss was no more than
a fleeting touch, since she drew away only a moment later, but it
was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted in his life, more than he
had ever thought he would receive from Meiran. She then set her head
on his shoulder and Wufei held her, content to just have her in his
arms.
*******
TBC
*******
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