And this is my first ever fic, so please forgive any missed formalities or anything like that. Rating: PG-13 I guess
Standing Upside Down
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I?m not freezing, but my nose feels raw and my cheeks are numb.
I wish the car had heat, but there?s not much we can do about it so I won?t complain. The rest of me feels fine, anyway.
I sink into my jacket and pull the hood string tight, so only my eyes are showing. If Heero notices, he doesn?t say anything. Now comfortable, I watch the midnight country slide by through the window.
* * *
I don?t know much about Heero.
Six years of life and I?ve never really gotten to know him. We?re both pretty solitary people.
Of course I have heard of his days as a soldier, the ?Perfect Soldier?. His tremendous energy and drive to do good was soured when he got very sick two years ago, with something called cancer. I don?t think he wanted anyone to know, but his employers found out. And, of course, I did too. I notice a lot more than most kids.
He never told my mom, but was demoted from the line of active duty to doing computer work, and then, about six months ago, completely cut off from employment. He shut himself off from the world, and the only times I saw him were when my mom was home. He?d hold her as they sat on the couch, watching the fire and talking.
I remember liking the crackle of pine logs, the warm, brambly fire smell, and falling asleep to the soft exchange of baritone and alto.
I?d never heard about mom?s real job (other than ?foreign minister?) or much about her history, so I just got used to the fact that she wouldn?t be around much. She went away often, to places all over the earth sphere, and her trips became longer and longer. It slowly became more unusual for her to be home, until, eventually, it turned into a very rare occasion.
* * *
I?m quite content here, looking out the window as we make our way further and further from the city. I have a few memories of being away from home, but they are all from very long ago. Some are saturated in greens and yellows, some are snowy, some are wet. A particularly vivid one is of my mom beating a spider to pulp with her shoe, and laughing when she knocked the lemonade all over herself and our picnic blanket in the process.
It?s hard to believe that that warm, hazy summer land is the same blue-black country Heero and I are now passing.
* * *
About a year ago, I went to school for three of the most absurd days of my life. The first day was so frustrating and idiotic that I sat in the library for the next two days, and after that, stayed home. Since Heero went into the agency all day and mom was always away, neither of them knew. I hacked into the school computer system and just deleted myself. And that ended that. Whenever mom called, I made up some story about finger painting or playing house or some other pointless activity. I don?t know if she bought it, but she at least didn?t pry. She knew I was a loner, like Heero.
She regretted not being home more, though. It was easy to tell by how lost she looked whenever she had to leave. Heero, also, always wanted her to stay. He was always very concerned about her when they weren?t together.
?Yes Heero, but I can?t,? mom said before she left on her most recent trip, sounding very worn and tired, but patient. ?My leaving now would only cause this battle to last longer. As soon as this threat is under control, I promise you I?ll retire so we can be together. And I know that letting you obliterate them all would be effective, but I think it?s inhumane. There is always a better way to resolve these things.?
That threat must have been bigger than she expected.
* * *
There?s no moon out, and as usual there is too much light and haze from the city to see past the black blanket above. On especially clear nights, though, I?ve seen the stars before. It?s hard to look directly at them; focusing on one makes it disappear somehow. I can?t imagine how writers could make something so frustrating into something so romantic.
I find the darkness that surrounds us beautiful, though. Just very, very cold.
* * *
I?d read technical manuals and online forums all day, or dribble my soccer ball outside. Sometimes I?d swing around on the jungle gym at the park or take things apart and rebuild them. By the time Heero was sent home for good on account of his sickness, I was so well accustomed to being alone that I actually avoided him.
Two days after my mom left for outer space on one of her trips, we received a call. The caller never stated his name, but I think Heero knew him. The message was urgent, the man was coming to our house. Heero slowly lifted himself out of bed and got dressed for the first time since mom left. The strain of seeming strong for my mother wore on him more and more, every time they were together. Evidently, though, this visitor deserved attention. Heero made his way to the door, leaning heavily on furniture for support. I hid behind the couch to listen.
Then the man came, covered in a grey coat that revealed only a strand of long silver-grey hair and the toes of his shiny formal boots. Heero was intent on this tall person with his low, smoky voice.
I only vaguely remember their hasty words: ...ambushed?they took her?desperate move?she?s been?come get you as soon as I possibly could?
But I clearly remember Heero?s eyes snap open, his blank face, and his white fists.
Within a minute the two men were gone.
For the next several days I continued on as usual, immersed myself in books and my soccer ball, and didn?t really stay in tune with the news. Being alone doesn?t bother me, but I did wish mom would call. I hadn?t heard from her since she left.
* * *
I doze off, and when I am jolted awake we are inside a forest. There is no sky or ground, just wood and fir trees and our quiet, bumpy road. I am mesmerized by how our headlights make everything sparkle.
As the trees blur from my breath on the glass, I wonder if Heero is thinking about the last few months, too.
* * *
He came home three weeks later. I sat perfectly still in the couch chair with my book when he came in the door, and watched him make his way to the bedroom. He could walk easily, but was thin, and bent, and his eyes had gone dull, like holes in his head.
Later that day, I first started seeing the headlines, and hearing the broadcasts. ?Threat Annihilated? ?Terrorists Obliterated by Mysterious Fighter? and ?Our Beloved Queen May Rest in Peace.? Apparently, a terrorist organization had been completely wiped out, with no survivors and no clues as to who did it. The reports emphasized that the destruction of the terrorists was fair punishment for their recent torture and murder of someone?s queen.
The clatter died down in a few days, however, and the mysterious justice fighter was never found.
I didn?t see Heero again after he returned. He never left that room; if he ate or drank I never noticed. Mom would make him come out, I knew, whenever she got home. I wished she?d at least call. She usually did.
So I continued on like usual.
* * *
Heero finally stops the car at the end of a long dirt road. We get out, and he grabs a backpack and a flashlight. He takes my mittened hand and leads me into the crackling, frozen darkness. I can tell that it will be a long walk, but that doesn?t bother me. Heero makes good company.
It is easy to be silent with him.
* * *
Late one rainy night, many grey weeks later, I heard Heero moving around, and opening the door for a stranger. Peeking around the doorway, I saw that the new man had long brown hair tucked down the collar of his jacket and bright violet eyes. Heero looked horrible, with wrinkled pants, matted hair, and a grey tinged swath of beard on his face.
I crept out of my room and crouched by the railing of the stairs. Who would he let into our house so late?
I could faintly hear him and the other man talking in the living room, their low voices a tense, rolling hum. I crept further down the stairs and listened intently. I am a good listener.
??nothing that any of us could do, and you know better than to think we didn?t try our damned hardest?? came the stranger?s voice. Heero interrupted with something that I couldn?t hear. He must have been facing away from the doorway.
?Stop. Stop living in the past. Stop hating yourself. You had no control, Heero. You have a brilliant son upstairs, in case you?ve forgotten. He needs you. You have a responsibility to him, and to her??
Heero?s voice rose hoarsely, bitterly. ?This body won?t let me keep the promises I?ve made. I?m the one dying in a warm bed while her blood has been scattered through space! Damn them! Damn them all to ? ? He stopped abruptly.
?I?m sorry, old buddy. You know as well as I do that those feelings only lead to greater pain,? came the other voice, in sympathy. ?You?re no longer dying, thank your body for that. And you?ve destroyed everyone responsible. Let it be. Just remember her. Remember her for the boy.?
The two men sat, without saying a word, for a long time.
My brain was spaghetti. I wanted so badly to understand it all, the depth of their emotion and this stranger whose advice my father took.
Heero eventually walked the man to the door, and they paused for a last word. I could see Heero?s back as he leaned weakly on the door frame, surrounded by the black shimmer of freezing rain outside.
?Look, man. If you ever need to? get away, I guess, you both are always welcome with Hilde and me,? came the other voice from outside. ?I just want to make sure you know that.?
?Thank you,? Heero replied softly. ?I appreciate it.?
He closed the door and locked it, and made his way back to sink into the couch. His head dropped into his hands and he stayed there, thinking and breathing.
So many questions whirled in my head, but there was only one that I had to have an answer to.
?Heero?? I ventured into the silence.
His head jolted up, and we looked at each other. I hadn?t talked to him directly in almost two years. He seemed to realize something that made his brow tighten with displeasure. I was scared.
?When will momma come home??
His stone face seemed to dissolve, like a sand castle left in the sun for too long. He looked at me openly. I had never seen someone look so lost.
He reached his arm out to me, and I looked at his hand. It was shaking. When I hesitated, he leaned forward and gathered me into his arms. He held me on his lap. I was nervous being so close to him, but the fact that he hadn?t answered my question was scarier. I hugged him back.
I could feel his breathing become erratic, silent sobs that never found outlet in tears. We sat like that for a long time. Eventually I came to realize that my mother was not coming back. I didn?t cry, but the pain I felt then was only a fraction of what I feel now.
* * *
My sweater is scratching my neck, but I can?t fix it as I am, in mittens and a hooded jacket. I decide that it is better to be warm and scratched than cold and? probably still scratched. Heero continues holding my hand as we continue our journey. Every once in a while, he?ll take both of my hands and swing me over a ditch, or a log. Without a word, he is telling me that he understands my weariness and is trying to help me along. But his breathing is just as labored as mine, and his feet drag the ground, too.
This velvety darkness is something I?ve never seen before, it is cold, yet welcoming. I decide that I like the forest. I?m quite happy with Heero. This is the first time in a long while.
* * *
I realized in the morning, when I woke up on the couch, that I dozed off on his lap that night.
He locked himself in my parents? room again, and barring a peek through the door when a funny-looking doctor came three days later, I never saw him. From what I did see, though, he had cleaned himself up. I figured that was a good sign. The doctor looked very pleased when he left, too. I briefly wondered if Heero could be recovering, but decided that even if his body healed, his mind and heart would take much longer.
I sat around most of the time, too miserable to do anything. Sometimes I took walks around or dribbled my soccer ball in the yard, but it was really too cold to spend a long time out. So I usually sat and stared at the grey sky or at pictures of my mother.
My beautiful mother. Relena.
I thought about every memory I had of her: her soft hands and quiet lullabies as she sang me to sleep, her long, exquisite dresses, her favorite mug of tea, and how her eyelashes sparkled when we were swimming. With these memories came memories of Heero, and how happy they were together. It surprised me to remember how kind he had been, how easy to smile and eager to dance with my mom. I wanted to be with that man again.
* * *
Sometimes I still catch myself wondering when mom will call, and there are moments when I think how happy I?ll be when she comes home. Every time this happens, I have to relive the realization that she won?t ever come back in my life, and every time it hits me like a wrench in the stomach. I think about her so much that I dream about her, too, and sometimes I catch myself remembering a dream instead of the reality. Already it?s become hard to draw up a clear image of her in my mind.
I still can?t believe that I?ll never see her again.
I?ve come to understand why Heero had no desire to get out of bed every day. That?s why it surprised me so much when I heard him open my bedroom door earlier this evening. He came in awkwardly, gaunt and greyed to the point that I barely recognized him. I don?t imagine I looked much better.
?Getting out would do us good,? he said gruffly.
?Yeah.?
So we raided the coat closet and bundled up, and Heero stuffed a blanket and flashlight into a backpack.
Then we left. I already think that the journey has made our night worthwhile.
But that doesn?t mean I want it to end quite yet.
* * *
?We?re close, now,? Heero says. He turns off the flashlight, and we stop for a second to adjust to the dark. As we stand, the black clouds in my eyes eventually clear and I can see starlight filter through the trees ahead of us. Heero puts me up on his shoulders, since the bush branches and bramble have become thick. Though I?m light for my age, I can tell that he is straining to stand upright. He seems determined, though, so I?m quiet.
?Close your eyes,? he says, and I do. I can feel us move forward and hear the crackle of his boots crushing pinecones and brittle twigs. I can faintly make out the smell of evergreen in my cold nose. Eventually the crunching stops and I hear a faint shushing sound instead. I?m surprised, and open my eyes.
We are standing upside down in a black velvet bowl of diamonds. I can?t even begin to describe its magnificence.
Are these the same faint spots that I?ve seen through the clouds in the city?
Heero stops moving when he feels the breath leave my body. I can?t take my eyes from the sky. After while, he makes to put me down and I climb from his shoulders. We?re standing almost at the edge of a cliff, in a clearing of long, dry grass that has matted down with the weather. Looking out from the cliff, there is forest and the twinkle of a city far away. And stars, all around. Stars like I never dreamed possible. They seem so close here. There is nothing between us but the frozen air.
?Relena loved the stars,? Heero says quietly.
?She loved their stability, and patience, and purpose. I haven?t come here in a long time. Places like this are rare on earth, but they are the closest to outer space that you and I can come right now.?
I like the thought that my mom loved stars too.
?It was a hard choice for her and me to live permanently on earth, and we never regretted it. But we both always missed the stars.?
And now, she?s out there forever. He didn?t have to say it.
He rustles in his pack and grabs a thick blanket. He spreads it on the ground and pulls me to his side as we lay down on our backs. We lay there, lost in the perfect, still beauty. Heero looks up, same as me. But I know he isn?t silent from wonder, as I am.
I know he can see my mom.
~~~
The crystal clear stars become my mother?s long, sparkling lashes as she grins before splashing me. She smiles, her teeth twinkle. She flips her head from the water, her hair showers everything with tiny, infinite, radiant droplets. I laugh as Heero creeps up behind and startles her, beginning a huge splashing fight which mom and I decidedly win. She is wrapping a towel around me and kisses my forehead, and proceeds to make a mohawk of my wet hair, and she is laughing. And Heero is smiling, and takes her hand and his other hand finds its way to her waist and before she knows it they are circling around and around, dancing.
* * * * *
Eight months later
As we wait for the shuttle to take off, I find myself thinking about the last year.
Heero and I stayed on the cliff all night. I forgot about my nose, my cheeks, and the itching of my sweater neck. I fell asleep and dreamed about mom. Heero woke me up a few hours later so we could make our way back home.
The next morning, in fact, he woke me up with splattered pancakes, and we ate breakfast together. We both desperately needed a good meal, and eating together became habit. I began sitting in the room with him when I read, and every once in a while he?d come play soccer with me. Over time, he became stronger, and one day, about two months later, he went back to work. He didn?t go on any more missions, but worked at home on the computer or went in to his agency to give tactical advice and other sorts of consulting. He must be a genius, judging by how much respect and deference people show him.
I never again saw the silver-haired man who came to our house so long ago, but his picture, in majestic uniform, turned up on our mantle. I sometimes found Heero dusting it off; it is the only picture he keeps clean other than those of my mom.
It turns out that the brown-haired man is named Duo, and he is an old friend of Heero?s. He came to visit last month with his wife and daughter. Duo and Ms. Hilde share an infectious sense of humor that left me with a constant stitch in my side from laughter. They could even make Heero smile.
And they finally convinced Heero to move into space. The topic came up one afternoon, and plans were pretty much set by the time I went to bed. As hesitant as Heero and I were to leave this house, it?s probably true that a change will do us good. We?re going to live down the street from the Maxwells, and there is a sort of special school on the colony where I?ll be able to take classes as advanced as I need. Their daughter is about to graduate, and her stories have gotten me really excited about it.
We spent the last few weeks packing our things and Heero has made arrangements to continue his work from the colony. Last night we went to a going-away dinner with some of his old comrades who live on earth, and everyone had some cheerful memory of my mother to share. I had never heard so much about her; what she was like when she was young or pregnant with me. We had an absolutely wonderful time, and I left with nothing but happy thoughts about mom. Heero seemed happy, too, in his own quiet way. And that made the night perfect.
But now, we have to go.
* * *
?Look,? Heero whispers, close to my ear. Without saying another word, we look out the shuttle window to watch the sun round the earth in a brilliant display of light.
After while, I tear my eyes from the window and gaze at the profile of the great man sitting beside me.
?I?m glad you?re my dad, Heero,? I tell him.
He looks at me for a long time, and smiles. He pulls me into his lap and lays his cheek on my head. I close my eyes against his chest. His breathing is shallow, almost still. But I know he is watching the sun rise. Its light is warm on my face.
And somehow, it reminds me of my mom. Relena. As if she is here, I feel her smile in the sunlight.
I wrap my arms around my dad?s neck and fall asleep, to be woken when we reach our new home.
* * *
Finish
A.N.- First fic ever. Criticism is welcome, though I don?t think I?ll do any more writing. It?s too tedious. I have an incredible newfound respect for everyone who has the guts, intellect, and patience to write and share their work. *bows to every author on the site*
So thanks to everyone who read all the way to the end! I hope it was worthwhile.
A few explanations and excuses:
1. Sorry for the long intro. Looooooooooong intro.
2. I know the son?s thinking is way too advanced for a 6 year old, but this is Heero and Relena?s child. C?mon. And yes, he?s Heero?s son. Just didn?t call him ?dad?.
3. Their car is electrical. That must be why it doesn?t have heat?
4. Relena?s shuttle was overtaken, and she was captured and killed by the terrorist organization she had been working so feverishly to come to terms with for the last two years. And Zechs was killed when he and Heero took revenge?gosh, I hope this wasn?t too much of a bummer.
5. I don?t know how Heero recovered, but I think that if anyone could overcome one of the greatest of all enemies, it would be him.
So, overall, sorry for all the holes in the plot, the rocket pace, and the cheesiness. *sigh*
love,
simmer
