Heero purely could not reply. He couldn’t reconcile her words with his own craving need for the rare times that Duo would speak, the strange aching sensation of silence that he had never identified until it was gone, banished by Duo’s voice. When Duo talked, it was a reminder that he was still alive, that he still had a soul that could reach out -- how could anyone want to cut that off, how could anyone...
Duo was winning when Heero came back, absolutely enjoying the frustrated scowl on his doctor’s sweet-featured face as he beat the Saracen at dice. After a year in the army with Trowa, Quatre was well accustomed to waiting patiently for someone to return from obligatory absence; a skill he knew that Duo would need to learn in the days to come. He was not so accustomed to losing, though, and was more than grateful for the interruption when Duo looked up from the table and quietly said, “They’re coming back.”
“Who is?” Quatre asked, sounding a bit surprised. “Heero and Trowa, already?”
“Heero at least,” Duo replied, “maybe Trowa with him.” He titled his head to one side and paused, listening. “Someone else, anyway...”
The canvas tent walls didn’t stop much noise, but no sooner had Quatre picked up on the familiar footsteps out of the background sounds, than they stopped, and only Heero ducked under the tent flap, blank and grim.
“Is something wrong, Heero?” Quatre was the first to speak. “I thought that with the garrison arriving this morning, you’d be gone all day...”
“That’s done with,” Heero told him. “Something else came up.” He glanced over his shoulder, at something neither of the men in the tent could see, and his already displeased expression tightened even further. He dropped the tent flap behind him and closed the distance quickly between him and Duo.
The injured boy looked up at him, a silent question in his violet eyes. Heero hesitated a moment, struggling to overcome some internal pressure, before he finally explained. “Trowa recognized someone among the recruits... someone he thought you might know.”
Re: Spoil of War, prologue
Date: 2006-02-28 01:19 am (UTC)Heero purely could not reply. He couldn’t reconcile her words with his own craving need for the rare times that Duo would speak, the strange aching sensation of silence that he had never identified until it was gone, banished by Duo’s voice. When Duo talked, it was a reminder that he was still alive, that he still had a soul that could reach out -- how could anyone want to cut that off, how could anyone...
Duo was winning when Heero came back, absolutely enjoying the frustrated scowl on his doctor’s sweet-featured face as he beat the Saracen at dice. After a year in the army with Trowa, Quatre was well accustomed to waiting patiently for someone to return from obligatory absence; a skill he knew that Duo would need to learn in the days to come. He was not so accustomed to losing, though, and was more than grateful for the interruption when Duo looked up from the table and quietly said, “They’re coming back.”
“Who is?” Quatre asked, sounding a bit surprised. “Heero and Trowa, already?”
“Heero at least,” Duo replied, “maybe Trowa with him.” He titled his head to one side and paused, listening. “Someone else, anyway...”
The canvas tent walls didn’t stop much noise, but no sooner had Quatre picked up on the familiar footsteps out of the background sounds, than they stopped, and only Heero ducked under the tent flap, blank and grim.
“Is something wrong, Heero?” Quatre was the first to speak. “I thought that with the garrison arriving this morning, you’d be gone all day...”
“That’s done with,” Heero told him. “Something else came up.” He glanced over his shoulder, at something neither of the men in the tent could see, and his already displeased expression tightened even further. He dropped the tent flap behind him and closed the distance quickly between him and Duo.
The injured boy looked up at him, a silent question in his violet eyes. Heero hesitated a moment, struggling to overcome some internal pressure, before he finally explained. “Trowa recognized someone among the recruits... someone he thought you might know.”