Worthy

“W00t! Head shot!”

“Maxwell,” Wufei’s head appeared in the doorway, “are you playing that game again?”

No answer.

“Maxwell,” Wufei stepped into the shared bedroom, “are you on Heero’s laptop?”

No answer.

“Duo,” Wufei moved closer, eyeing the door warily, “do you have a death wish?”

“Hee! Another head shot!”

Wufei, barely avoiding a bloody nose, stumbled back from the suddenly waving arms. Duo was a little hyperactive most days. Gaming did nothing to calm this habit.

“DUO!” The braid twitched, though Duo didn’t turn all the way around.

“Yeah, Fei?” he asked absently, still enthralled with the computer screen. There was an explosion, and Wufei paused for a moment, watching a digital jeep shred three enemies.

“He will kill you if he finds out you even touched that thing, let alone hacked into a gaming system … again!”

“Aw, Fei, didn’t know you cared!” Duo smirked as another enemy went flying over a cliff. Since when did any of the Halo scenarios have cliffs like that? Wufei shook his head, ignoring both the game and the twinge of pain at the nickname.

“I don’t have the time to waste peeling your brains off of the walls, American,” he muttered and left, hoping the other pilot had some sense of self-preservation. Yuy was insanely protective of that damned laptop. Quatre stepped out of the safe-house’s only bathroom.

“Shower’s free!” he chirped, one towel sliding down his hips as he rubbed another over his hair. Wufei blinked as Duo, declaring dibs on the shower, thundered down the hall and slammed the door shut. How did these two survive? So … cheerful. He gritted his teeth and stalked away. Bubbly, happy, weak ditzes … yet strong like her … and they were his fellow pilots … equals. It was enough to make him sick some days.

Duo popped his hbackback out and watched Wufei stomp out of the house before turning to a frowning Quatre.

“That one needs to get laid,” he declared before ducking back into the bath, leaving Quatre with a thoughtful moue and staring after the Chinese pilot. Heero gave the blond a hard look when he came in a few minutes later, though he ignored the dangerously narrowed eyes and slipped into his room.

“DUO!”

**

“Wufei.” He looked up to fQuatQuatre leaning against his door, registering the faint click of the lock being turned. “We need to talk.” Wufei glared at the blond and turned back to his book, gently pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Quatre didn’t seem deterred by this non-reaction, and moved to read over his shoulder.

“The Art of War by Sun Tzu? Good book.” Wufei looked at Quatre over the rim of his glasses, hoping the teen would get to the point soon and leave him alone. “You’re cute when you do that.” Quatre’s voice was quiet, his breath warm against Wufei’s cheek. Wufei flinched away and stood stiffly.

“What did you want, Winner?” He slid the reading glasses off, setting them gently on the nightstand. They were old. Only one other had ever … he pulled himself back to the conversation and looked back at the blond. Quatre was watching him closely, as though there were some great importance to his every move. He would have sneered, though he knew it wouldn’t have any affect on the blond’s suddenly focused attention.

“Why are you a pilot?” he asked suddenly. He didn’t move into Wufei’s space, noticing the tension across the shoulders. Wufei’s jaw was clenched, his dark eyes burning into the other pilot.

“What business is it of yours?” he hissed, crossing to the door and opening it again. “Pe, de, do not disturb my studies again.” Quatre stepped forward, taking a firm grasp of the door and wrenching it closed.

“I said we were going to talk.” Wufei was slightly taken back by the firm tone. He growled and retreated to the window, hands held tightly behind his rigid back.

“I’m Pilot 05 because I’m the only one left. Or do you not remember that my colony is nothing more than space debris.” The scenery outside the window was a hazy autumn afternoon, cool and calm compared to Wufei’s heated words. Quatre’s slim fingers settled on Wufei’s shoulders.

“You were Shenlong’s pilot before that,” he said, his voice suddenly soft and unobtrusive. “Why?” Wufei could feel his body trembling slightly, his breath heavy and loud in his ears. His head dipped forward to lean against the cool window. He stared blindly as his breath fogged the clear view. He couldn’t hear Quatre’s slow voice.

“Why, Meiran?” he choked out. “I told you to wait for the negotiations. No, they would have listened. They wouldn’t … how can you think like that, wife? They don’t want this … n’t n’t want this. Nataku? You can’t be Nataku … Meiran? The flowers bloomed, Meiran. See? The colony’s fine, wife … yes, you did that. Don’t go, Meiran, you’re too strong. I lied, wife. Women can be strong, too. Meiran?” Hiice ice tripped into silent gasping. Quatre stayed frozen for a moment, his lips silently forming the name. Wufei came to himself with a snap. His eyes were dry as he twisted from Quatre’s hands and glared. “My lady wife died protecting the colony. Something I should have been doing, and I was sitting in my study with a book, Quatre. Is that sufficient reason to be a pilot? To honor a loved one’s memory?!” He grabbed one of Quatre’s arms and tried to force him from the room again. Quatre dug his heels in and pulled Wufei into a restraining hug. The Chinese teen struggled for a moment, only half listening to the blond’s murmurings.

“We have to protect them. Have to make sure they never see what we do. Can’t ever let them be taken away from us, never. It hurts so much, and no one to turn to, no one to talk to, no one who’ll ever understand cause they don’t see it, they don’t wake up screaming because the blood’ll never wash off.” Wufei, still tense, stopped his struggles and let the blond talk into his ear. “Pain, tearing at the heart every battle, and it won’t ever stop.” Warm, moist breath tickled strangely in Wufei’s ear. “Won’t ever stop, and we take it up so they won’t have to. So they can be happy and innocent and live for us.” Quatre lightly bit the earlobe, his breathing faster. Wufei, eyes wide, didn’t fight, instead tentatively leaning against the blond. “Can’t we live just a bit? Talk to someone? Have at least one, maybe four people we can be sure will get it? Someone else to die with, kill beside, cry for … kiss?” And Quatre leaned back just enough to brush his lips against Wufei’s. His blue eyes were closed, though the lashes were dry, and Wufei blinked wonderingly at the strange offer set before him. Someone to die with? To not be alone? And he leaned into the gentle kiss, his eyes slipping closed and his mind shutting down. For now, did it really matter where he ended with the other pilot? For now, he was not alone, and the bed was warm—first time in a long, long time.

**

Wufei mumbled and tried to push Quatre awhenwhen the blond shook his shoulder. He was perfectly comfortable and willing to sleep for a few more hours. The blond rolled him over and straddled his waist. Wufei growled and squinted one eye up at the Arabian. He brushed back a bit of stray hair and waited to hear what the other wanted. Quatre smiled serenely and leaned over to pick up something. Wufei resigned himself to the position for a few moments and yawned just a bit. He opened his eyes to find a gun brushing the fine hairs between his eyebrows. Frozen, he let his eyes trail up to meet the blue ones above him. Quatre’s face was as closed as he had ever seen it, the eyelids drooping just a bit and shadowing the normally bright eyes, the smiling angel transformed into a dark and grim soldier. A bit of shock was obviously showing as the tight lips quirked into a strange parody of Heero’s smirk.

“There is a reason we are pilots, Wufei,”saidsaid, his voice oddly deep and rough compared to his usual smooth speech. “All of us. You should live a bit before you die.” Wufei’s eyes widened as he watched, time slipping into a strange slow motion, as Quatre cocked the gun and pulled at the trigger. His head snapped back, tears of pain springing up, and he stared up at Quatre for a moment before recognizing the object dangling from his fingers. A rubber band. “Can’t really kill another pilot, after all.” The e wae was back to normal, though there was still a faint sense of menace in the face. Quatre rolled off the bed and slipped into his shirt. “Trowa’s making dinner tonight. Time to eat!” And the blond was gone.

Wufei slowly sat up, his hand straying to the welt he could feel on the bridge of his nose. If the aim had been off in any way, he could have been blinded. He ducked his head, laughing and silently acknowledging the other teen’s skill. Heero walked past, and Wufei called ou sud sudden curiosity seizing him.

“Heero. How did Duo prove to you he was a worthy pilot?” Heero cocked his head, taking in the scene. Wufei realized he was nude beneath the blanket, and his hair was still loose from earlier. For some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed.

"He shot me. Twice.” Wufei blinked. That would do it. Heero watched him for another moment before his eyes glinted and he turned, his last comment tossed over his shoulder. “Of course, he did have to drug, kidnap, and fuck me to provet I’t I’m not entirely the machine the docs wanted.” Wufei choked in shock. Then a slow smile quirked his own lips. He slipped into his pants, not bothering with a shirt, and headed to dinner. There were moments these other pilots truly reminded him of Meiran. And that thought didn’t hurt as much as it used to.

**

Author’s Note: I apparently can’t bring myself to actually shoot the boys….