I do not own Gundam Wing.  This fan fiction has no commercial value and I am not making any kind of profit or income off of this.  

AN:  This is the first in of 2 chapters regarding Heero and Relena’s past.  This will hopefully answer many questions, and resolve much confusion.

 

Chapter 8

 

Ten years ago

 

“Give me all the money!” A harsh voice yelled at the aging man working behind the convenience store counter.  The figure emphasized his point with the short-nosed .38 caliber revolver in his gloved right hand.

            The clerk fumbled with the cash register, fright clutching the visible lines of his face and jostling every movement.  His fingers shook as he pulled the money out of the drawer and placed it in a small paper sack.  He moved to place it on the counter, but the bag pitched and fell from trembling hands.

            “Pick it up!” The same voice shouted.  He was wearing a mask, so the clerk couldn’t tell if he was angry, or maybe just as frightened as he was.

            The man bent down to pick up the bag, his mind spinning.  Fear fogged his brain, staving off coherent thought. He saw light glinting through the fog on something metallic and remembered the weapon the owner kept under the counter.  He stood up, and aimed the shotgun at the boy giving the orders, his finger trembling on the trigger.

            “Odin!” A loud crack sounded from the gun the other boy held, panic urging his finger against the trigger.  The bullet struck the store clerk in the chest before the man could fire.  A metallic clang echoed off the cheap tile floor as the gun clattered to the ground mere seconds before the body that once held it.

            Silence clung to the air for a moment as the two boys stared in shock at where the man had been standing just an instant before.  “Is he dead?” The shooter asked, pulling off his mask.  He had been keeping a lookout at the glass door, while the one he called Odin gave the orders to the clerk.

            Odin walked around the counter and picked up the bag.  He knelt down next to the body, and felt for a pulse; there was none.  “Yes.” He glanced up through narrowed eyes at the security camera mounted on the wall, and went in search of the recording. 

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            A young girl with golden-blonde hair held her breath behind a candy bar display as she prayed for the two men to leave.  The deafening sound of a gunshot splintered reality as she clamped her hands over her ears, and peered around the cardboard display, catching a glimpse of the unmasked thief in the mirror behind the store counter.  He was young, about sixteen, with chocolate brown hair that fell in his face, and cobalt blue eyes. He looks so lost, she thought then was interrupted by a sharp movement in the corner of her eye.  She sucked in a breath, and huddled closer to the wall.

            After what seemed like years, she finally heard the door open, and looked to see their two retreating forms.  Letting out the breath she had been holding, Relena waited several minutes before venturing out from behind the cardboard and shelves.  She cautiously made her way to the door, fearful that they would come back.  When she saw the dark red blood oozing out from behind the counter, Relena cried out, and ran.  She didn’t want to see what was there.  When she got to her car, she made an anonymous call to the police on her cell phone, and then left. 

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            The two boys rode in silence back to the rundown apartment they shared.  They both knew that the job had gone horribly wrong with the death of that clerk. 

            Back at home, Heero lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, a no expression on his face.  Odin stopped at his door, “You saved my life, man.  Thanks.”

            There was no response.  Odin turned and went to his own room.

           

            Heero was jostled awake early the next morning with four ominous words: “We have a problem.”

            “What?”  Heero asked, instantly on alert.

            “Come see,” Odin said and led the way out the door.

            Heero pushed the bedcovers off his body and trudged to the other boy’s room.  Upon his entrance, Odin pressed the play button on the video recorder.  A pretty girl with blond hair appeared on the small screen in black and white. The recording was soundless, but sound wasn’t necessary. She paid the clerk, and then asked him something before turning and walking to the back of the store.  She disappeared off screen.  The time stamp in the corner counted off approximately a minute and thirty seconds before the two masked men entered.  Odin paused the tape.  “She was still in the building.”

            “Who cares? She was in the bathroom,” Heero replied. The recording brought back the memory of the nightmarish events he had vainly hoped would disappear when he woke.

            “No, watch this,” he said and pressed play once more.

            The scene continued like an out-of-body experience, Heero wanted to shut his eyes, or pretend it was someone else on that screen, but the reality of it pulsed through his mind screaming its condemnation. 

Odin paused the tape again, and pointed to the screen. “Look here,” he said, indicating the mirror above and behind the counter.

            “It’s a blob.” He frowned at his brother’s crude gesture.

            “It’s her.  She saw us.  She probably even saw you without your mask on – what were you thinking!” He shoved Heero back a few steps. 

He caught himself and glared up at Odin. “I wasn’t.  I had just killed a man.”  Heero turned away from the recording and walked towards the door.

            “Yes, you did.  And unless you want to spend the rest of your life in a jail cell, we have to find her and make sure she doesn’t talk!”

            Heero stopped in the doorway.  “I’m not killing anybody else.”

            “We’re not gonna kill her, just scare her a little.  Trust me.”

            Heero turned back towards his brother.  ‘Trust me’ was his favorite saying.  Any time he said those words, the hair stood up on the back of Heero’s neck and his stomach turned.  “You don’t know who or where she is.  She could be in another state by now.  Forget it.  What’s done is done,”  Heero growled, his expression cold.  He turned and left the room.

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

            Three weeks later, Heero sat staring silently at the desk in front of him.  “Sergeant Po”, the engraved desk plate read.  A woman in her twenties with long brown hair wearing a police uniform smiled kindly at him as she sat down.  “Well, Mr. Yuy, it says here you have to complete 200 hours of community service, and serve six months probation.  That means I’m your new best friend.”

            Heero scowled at the nameplate and sunk down in his chair.

            “So, what’s your favorite charity?”

            “Huh?” His eyes darted up to her face.

            She smiled at him. “Do you have a preference for how you want to serve your community?”

            He crossed his arms and looked away. “I don’t know, feed the homeless?” Heero said sarcastically.

            “Done.”

            “What?”

            “Tomorrow, I’ll pick you up and take you over to the homeless shelter on 6^th Street.  A group meets there every Saturday to serve food to those less fortunate.”

            He glared at her.  “I can get a ride there myself.”

            “Yes, but that’s how you got here in the first place,” she laughed.  “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

            “AM?  As in the morning?” Heero’s voice escalated.

            “Yes, in the morning.  This is not supposed to be fun, remember – this is punishment.”

            “Fine,” Heero growled.  “May I go now, Sergeant?”

            “Call me Sally.  Yes, you may go.  Do you need a lift home?  I’m leaving now, and can give you a ride.”

            “No, I’ll walk,” Heero said gruffly and left.

            *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

            At the homeless shelter the next morning, Sally escorted him in and introduced him to the director.  He noticed that all the other volunteers were older women, and groaned inwardly.  “Why did I have to steal that car?” He scolded himself. 

He was half-listening to the boring explanation of what he was supposed to be doing, thinking again how lame it all was, when she walked in – blonde hair wafting in and around her flushed face before the door blocked out the cruel winter wind. His eyes widened and he couldn’t help but stare.  There was no mistaking it, she was the girl on the tape.  He recovered quickly, masking his expression, but continued to watch her out of the corner of his eye.

 

Relena arrived slightly later than usual at the homeless shelter where she volunteered every Saturday.  With her adoptive father being a politician, it was an unspoken requirement that she find some way to ‘give back’ to the community.  She didn’t mind, though, it felt good to help people in need.

She walked into the kitchen, and almost fainted.  There he was, that boy she saw every night in her dreams.  It was always the same, his crystal blue eyes staring right through her as he aimed his gun and fired.  There was so much pain in those eyes.  She felt a strange urge to comfort him grip her heart.  She shook her head and tried to clear her thoughts.  “What is he doing here?” She asked herself, afraid of what the answer might be.

She had not spoken a word about what had happened that night.  She never would, either.  She wanted to forget.  But a small voice nagged at the back of her mind, “You just don’t want to turn him in….”

 

 “Relena,” the director greeted her. She was an elegant lady in her fifties, her brown hair highlighted with silver streaks announcing her age was pulled back smartly in a French twist.  She looked far too good for a place like this.  “Come, meet our new volunteer.”
            Relena smiled hesitantly and crossed the room.  He was leaning back against the wall to the kitchen, his arms crossed in a posture of resentment.  He just stood there scowling at her from under his long chestnut colored bangs.  He wore dark blue jeans, a white T-shirt and a black leather jacket, and certainly looked anything but friendly.

“Relena Darlian, this is Heero Yuy.”

Relena held out her hand, “Pleased to meet you,” she said softly.

He shook her hand, and their eyes met.  “Those eyes again,” she thought and couldn’t help but shudder. She looked away.

“It’s a pleasure.  Are you sure we haven’t met before?” He asked with a deadly smirk.

Her eyes widened and she felt her knees threaten to give way, but she managed to reply, “I don’t believe we have.” She let go of his hand and instantly missed its warmth.  “I’m certain I would have remembered.” 

As if momentarily satisfied by her answer, he nodded. “I guess you just look familiar.”

 

There wasn’t enough ventilation in the kitchen, so he was sweating profusely in the heat that was generated by the stove and the ovens.  He cursed himself again for stealing that car, and went back to stirring the soup.  He and a few others were in charge of preparing the food, while Relena and the rest served it to their ‘guests’. 

When all the plates had been filled, he grabbed a glass of water, and took up a position in the corner of the room, watching.  He found his gaze time and time again drifting back to ‘that girl.’  He didn’t know quite what to make of her, really.  He observed that some of these people, despair and sadness long etched on their faces, brightened under her attentions.  An ember of hope ignited in despairing eyes as she interacted with them. 

He noticed the other volunteers didn’t get too close to the ‘unwashed’ masses, but Relena sat at their tables, and even hugged them as they left the shelter.  “But could she ease the pain in my own heart?” He wondered briefly before quickly quashing the errant thought. 

“She’s dangerous,” he told himself again, and went back to work.

 

He didn’t tell Odin about her that night.  He wasn’t sure why.  For some reason, he felt like he could trust her, but his reason dismissed the thought as illogical.  “You can’t believe some feeling, your life’s on the line!”  But that didn’t stop her from invading his dreams.