Hey, I got another chapter done, I had parts of this chapter knocking around on my comp for ages so I thought it was time I tweaked it and uploaded it. And I'd better get on with my English Lit revising right now........

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The First To Fall

*~ Chapter 6~*



“Wufei,” Quatre uttered, his voicing quaking. “Oh Wufei....”

Heero, Duo and Trowa said nothing, only stared through glassy eyes, as if somehow the body before them on the hospital bed wasn’t that of their Chinese friend and was some sort of impostor. But it was him. Most definitely. Sally was stood a few paces behind them by the plastered wall, and at her side stood Doctor Julius, a strange, solemn expression on his withered face.

Wufei, still dressed in his clinical robe, was laying motionless upon the bed, his face pasty and his eyes closed. It almost appeared as if he was merely sleeping, yet his chest was not rising or falling, and there was no apparent sign of life.

“I am very sorry. He died only minutes before I made the phone call,” Julius spoke up. “He suffered from a severe stroke caused by a blood clot to the brain, we discovered. Only once we realised what was wrong, it was too late to do anything to save your comrade....Obviously the clot occurred because of his former head injuries."

“You mean....the accident with the jeep was a factor in this fatal blood clot?” Sally asked in a soft, grave voice.

Doctor Julius turned his gaze to her; “I am afraid so, Miss...what is your name?

“Sally...Sally Po.”

“Yes, Miss Po. The impact to his head must have caused long term damage which wasn’t detected on the earlier scans when he first arrived here unconscious. Blood clots can occur unexpectedly but this one was most definitely induced by the....as you call it....accident.”

Why was he looking at her in that shifty way? As if he thought she’d done it purposely? Sally knew the four other pilots would blame her forever for letting this happen to Wufei. And she would forever blame herself. It was yet another thing to add to the sickening burden on her conscience.

“Can we touch him?” Quatre asked suddenly.

Julius nodded. “You may notice that he will still be a little warm but I must assure you that there was nothing more we could do to salvage his life. I am sorry.”

“I...understand,” Quatre said shakily. “I just wanna...touch him.”

Julius nodded and made his exit, claiming that he would return when they had each offered their necessary condolences. He had his own things to take care of - things of a deviant nature.

Duo watched his Arabian companion, as if he had some sort of morbid fascination, though his logical mind told him Quatre was just trying to convince himself this wasn’t some waxwork in front of him, but indeed his friend. Maybe it was his way of saying goodbye.

The blonde teen drew himself up close to the bedside and crouched down, smoothing the sheets gently the way one might to a child. Then he lifted one of the Chinese youth’s hands and cradled it against his wet cheek. “Goodbye,” he choked. “I think I’m saying this on behalf of all of us when I say you meant a lot. We love you, Wufei. To me, there’ll always be five of us.”

“Can it, Quatre,” Duo said hoarsely. “You’re making it too sad. Too final”

The Arabian bowed his head and laid down his friend’s limp hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his jaw trembling. “I just wanted to say something....”

“It’s okay, Quatre. At least you’ve had to courage to do so,” Trowa said gently, though his eyes were vacant.

“Wufei wouldn’t want this kind of mush,” Duo growled, and Quatre once again looked ashamed.

“Well what you would you like to say to Wufei, then, Duo?” Trowa whispered, feeling a slight pang for Quatre. They all coped with and confronted grief in different ways, and neither way was wrong. Quatre shouldn't be made to feel foolish.

For once, Duo Maxwell had nothing to say. Of course, there was loads he wanted to say to Wufei but not the kind he could vocalise on the spot; “Um, you were cool, man,” he said, trying to force a smile but the muscles in his face insisted he wore the grim expression he was holding. “Rest up, wait for us.”

The other three pilots knew Duo was still at the stage where he had been told Wufei had died, he could see it for himself, yet it hadn’t registered in his brain. He hadn’t hit the realisation yet that gone meant forever. But it would come, that was for sure.

Sally remained standing in the same position, arms held rigidly by her side. She stole a glance sideways and noticed that Heero was now leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching the scene at the bedside soberly. Right then, Duo turned and walked straight out, just as Quatre broke down in tears. Trowa nodded to the others and head bowed, followed them out. Obviously to see a companion's life fade to nothing was just too much to take. Sally and Heero remained the only two present with Wufei now, both as tense as each other.

The woman refused to allow herself to cry. Not in front of Heero. Her release came when the solemn youth turned and walked out of the room in the same manner as the other three, without so much as a backward glance at Chang Wufei. Sally knew it was painful for Heero. So very painful to lose a friend who he had so impulsively betrayed. How could he possibly say anything to Wufei? Sally hadn’t even expected him to.

All alone now, she stood in a hospital room - with the empty shell of that young man she had always cherished. Loved. She didn’t doubt that for a second. She loved Wufei. Hopelessly. Stupidly. Even when before she had told herself they couldn’t possibly be together. As he’d grown from a self- loathing boy to a reserved man, Sally had been unsure of what she felt for him; she had always looked upon him with affection because he was ‘her pilot’, the one she had the most interest and involvement in.

Sally had frequently quelled her dawning feelings and rested in the assumption he would always see her as an older sister, or even just a ‘woman’. A colleague....Major Sally Po, Preventer Water, a title. He may have even felt some sort of affection for her on friendly terms, manifesting itself in his occasional haughty mannerisms and over- protectiveness. But never a lover. He couldn’t ever love her in the way she wished for him to. That was what she had first thought long ago. Even when he had first spontaneously kissed her over a year ago, her sensible mind had put it down to teenage curiosity, and nothing more than that.

She cast her tortured mind back to another event, a month or so ago. The day of Zechs and Noin’s wedding. Then she’d felt the full power of her feelings for him, which she had discovered he returned. In a way, it had shocked her, in a way, not. She’d felt his arms, gentle and strong encircling her, she was held close to his flame, pressed against his beautiful body with his scent filling her lungs. She’d wanted to stay there forever, savouring the taste of him. But she knew she couldn’t.........

It was too late. Too late for her, she had thought at the time. Back then he still had a whole life ahead to find a woman who deserved him. She, on the other hand, was wasted. Of course, to everyone else she was just sensible, predictable, reliable Sally. All those kind of things sprung to mind on the mention of her name. And whilst those qualities weren’t exactly bad, she hated them. Because those people were wrong. They didn’t know her. Her friends didn’t know her anymore. And Wufei hadn’t known her right then at Zechs and Noin’s wedding as he held her in his arms. He hadn’t known that she could never have a relationship with him....because that day the test had shown she was carrying a child. To somebody else. That minor detail changed everything.

She had had to push him away, make him promise never to touch her, though never telling him why. And she’d made a promise to herself also. Never, never must she put her arms around him and draw him near. Never must she feel his lips against hers. Because he was honourable - he deserved someone like his first wife. Someone like Mieran. If only he’d listened to Sally when she’d told him not to touch her....he hadn’t been able to help himself. And then she would gather him in and realise she couldn’t- pulling and then pushing him away all the time. If only they hadn’t have been so attracted to each other, things would have been so much easier. He might have backed off, and she would have willingly let him. They wouldn’t have shared kisses then argued...in their Preventer office when no-one was around...in his dorm...in her apartment....in that cursed jeep......

Sally slipped back into the present, and saw her beloved Wufei as he was now. Still, lifeless. She’d killed him. It may have been an accident...the head injuries...the blood clot. But she’d killed him with that blasted jeep. Unintentionally or not, it changed nothing. He was dead. Finished. Gone.

“Wufei,” she whispered to his inanimate form. Her voice sounded almost childlike, and pleading. “Please....I’m...I’m sorry....I’m so sorry....”

She’d seen dead people before. Lots in the military hospital with the Alliance. But they were just soldiers, nameless, faceless people. They hadn’t affected her. Perhaps Heero had - but he’d been alive - and she didn’t want to think about anything concerning him right now. Sally never felt afraid of the dead. Maybe sorry for them, but never afraid. In war, you couldn’t be. But this was different. This was Wufei. She’d kissed those lips that she saw in front of her now, she’d stroked her fingers through the silky hair. She’d smelled his neck and held him close. And yet she felt so distant. No, she couldn’t touch him as he lay there. She wasn’t innocent, or pure, or justified. She wasn’t Nataku.

“I’m sorry, Wufei,” she repeated her voice faltering. “I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry that...that we couldn’t be together....if only you’d have known....I’m sorry I did it...”

Sally was aware of the tears dribbling down her face and wished that he could open his dark eyes and she could admit to him why she couldn’t let him close...and she’d watch him be disgusted, and hate her, but at least he’d be alive. She wished so hard, pointlessly. Knowing she was being ridiculous, she turned to flee.

“Sally?” a gentle, quivering voice whispered. “It’s all right...we’re all suffering.”

Large, tear-filled aquamarine eyes met hers, and she realised it was Quatre. He took hold of her hand, and she wasn’t sure whether he was offering her guidance or asking for it himself. She didn’t care which as they exited the room and Doctor Julius entered, a discreet curve of a smile on his sallow, wrinkled face. “Fools,” he muttered.

“We don’t blame you, Sally ” Quatre said as they walked, and she saw the ends of his blonde bangs were dampened with tears. “The others have gone back to the truck.... outside. There’s nothing else we can do right now.”

“I suppose they’ll take him to the mortuary and we’ll have to get a coffin and stuff...or he might have wanted to be cremated....,” Sally answered, her sentence trembling. She and Wufei had never talked about things like that.

“ We’ll... make.... arrangements you know...for the body...later...but right now....it’s like I’m in a dream...a terrible one...,” Quatre murmured strangely. “And I feel as if he isn’t dead...he was too warm...to be dead...but the doctor knows, I know that. He’s the professional...I’m just in...denial...yes...denial...”

Denial? Sally thought. Better than the harsh truth. Back to the villa then, for at least another couple of nights it seemed she was destined to be. Back to that lonely room in which she confined herself. Back to that pokey bathroom in which she constantly vomited. The same food, the same tears. Having to suffer each strained day with the shadow of Heero Yuy.

“I’m so sorry...Quatre...I’m sorry for all of you,” she mumbled, blinking away the river of tears, yet to no avail. “For the accident. Wufei was your comrade...your brother.”

They were nearing to steps, neither thinking to use the elevator. She could hardly see where she was walking for the film of water over her eyes, making her eyelashes clump together. Sally doubted Quatre could see for his tears, either, as he kept wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“Wufei wouldn’t want you to feel...tormented and guilty like this, Sally,” Quatre answered gently as they approached the outside door. “You’ve always been good, and kind to him. You’ve never hurt him in any way. That was only an accident and was unavoidable...It could have happened to anyone....why must you feel so condemned?”

Her only answer was a muffled sob. Tender, compassionate Quatre didn’t understand even the half of it. Again, she felt the familiar sickness spreading over her as she went into the open air. And it continued as she climbed into the passenger seat of the waiting truck. Quatre joined Duo and Heero in the back. Trowa cast a glance at Sally but said nothing, before turning his eyes to the exit of the parking lot and the road ahead.

*********

Three hours later, Duo was cradling Wufei’s backpack as Heero entered the small bedroom in the villa. Sally was in the bathroom showering, she said. Trowa and Quatre remained in the seating area. The Arabian lay splayed out face-down on the couch, his tears soaking into the cushions. He was weary and devastated. Trowa was keeping an eye on him whilst restraining his own grief miraculously the way only he could.

As he entered the bedroom, Heero saw the American’s violet eyes were tearless and bulging, and he was rocking back and forth slightly. Heero, with no word to his partner, promptly seated himself at the small desk and opened his laptop. Within minutes, he was tapping methodically into the keypad.

“Heero...what are you doing?” Duo questioned, his voice hoarse. Heero could tell he’d been crying, or yelling, or something along those lines earlier. He didn’t mention this, though. It would only dent Duo’s pride.

“I’m just updating Lady Une on the situation,” Heero replied evenly. “She said to keep in contact. I thought a typed message would be easier. It’s a difficult thing to talk about....for me anyway.”

“Wufei...he isn’t really gone, Heero,” Duo whispered, trying to convince himself. “Those doctors said he was gonna pull through - how can they just tell us he had a blood clot? Just like that? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Heero didn’t answer. His attention was focused entirely on his screen.

“I thought things were gonna be good, man,” Duo sighed, moving himself into a cross-legged position and hoisting the bag onto his lap. “After the wars and stuff. It’s been nice recently. We haven’t had much to worry about - now we get this! Don’t we ever just get to live normal lives? Is it too much to ask?”

Heero responded with a quiet grunt.

Slowly, the former Deathscythe pilot began to fumble with the pockets of Wufei’s bag, somehow feeling if he held his companion’s possessions, it may ease the pain of feeling so detached from him. His fingers curled around the smooth pistol Wufei had been given as a Preventer to defend himself. Duo set it down on the bed beside him.

Heero turned momentarily from his message. “What you doing?”

“What?” Duo answered defensively.

“With his backpack.”

“Just looking. No harm in that. Wu would want us to take care of his stuff, right?”

Heero shrugged and turned back to his screen. If it helped Duo’s hurt to do this, it was his deal.

“Just put them back when you’re done.”

“Yeah.”

Duo, moving it beside him, opened the clasp on the backpack and peered inside. He knew Wufei was always a meticulously tidy person and kept everything precise. Even the smallest details such as the contents of his bag were organised. Nothing much was in there. Just a change of clothes folded up, which he evidently hadn’t worn. Duo pulled the shirt and pants out and splayed them across his lap, whilst discovering Wufei's traditional Chinese robes were present too.

“Aww, look, he had the aftershave I bought him for Christmas,” Duo said with a bitter smile. He pulled out the bottle and studied it. “Wufei told me he hated the smell, but he must have liked it really, huh?”

“Quit it, Duo. This is important and you’re distracting me.” Heero sounded stern.

“Hey, you think Wu was kind of like our brother?” Duo spoke up softly, ignoring his comrade’s tone of voice. “ You think we’re all kind of like brothers?”

Heero nodded nonchalantly. “ I suppose.”

“Do you think when all five of us grew up, we’d still have shared in each other’s lives?”

After a few moments, the Japanese teen clicked to send his message. Then he snapped the lid of the laptop shut and leant his elbows on the desk, looking pensive.

“We’re grown up now,” Heero said. “Almost.”

“Well then if adulthood is as crap as my childhood was then I don’t want it,” Duo declared. “ I wish I could live in Never Never Land.”

Heero’s brow furrowed and he snorted as he turned to face his friend. “ What?”

“Never Never Land. Peter Pan,” Duo answered, forgetting Heero probably wouldn’t have ever heard children’s stories.

“Never heard of it.”

“I’ll tell ya. Solo and the older kids told me when I was scared and stuff at night. Peter Pan, he’s like this kid who lives in Never Never Land, a place where you never grow up. There’s pirates and things like that, but not wars. Not real nasty stuff. And there’s this fairy and a princess but she’s not called Relena, she’s called Tigerlilly.”

“Relena, what’s she got to do with this?” Heero snapped.

“Nothing. Don’t be so touchy. You fancy her or something?” Evidently Duo was trying to cope with his bereavement by grating on Heero’s nerves. The subject of Relena was a very delicate nerve.

“No. Shut up.”

“Well there’s the lost boys too, I think they remind me a bit of us really. Lost boys. We’ve always been lost...”

Heero had heard enough. “Duo, it’s a story,” he stated. “ Tell it to your kids. Not to me. I don’t need to hear it right now.”

Duo looked deflated for a second or two then he sneered, “Yeah, maybe I will tell it to my kids. It’s not like you’ll have any tales to tell...then again you ever being a father is highly unlikely.”

Heero pondered darkly on this comment, as Duo focused his attention on the contents of Wufei’s backpack again. He felt the unfamiliar shape of a small box and pulled it out. It was black with a strange, smooth texture, sort of like a jewellery box but larger. There were Chinese symbols on the lid. Duo slowly undid the clasp and lifted the lid. Inside were several items, they hadn’t much value to the former Deathscythe pilot - just old photos.

“Hey, Heero, did you know Wufei used to wear glasses?” Duo piped up, almost amused. He was just deluding himself from the fact he knew Wufei was gone. Or so they all thought. “And who’s that girl with pigtails? He didn’t mention he had a sister. Maybe she’s dead too or something. It wouldn’t surprise me...”

Heero was thinking his own thoughts, not listening at all. Duo found an envelope and and turned it over. Written on it was ‘Sally’ in Wufei’s tidy handwriting. Gingerly, guiltily, he attempted to open it, but Heero snapped to attention that very moment.

“Duo!” he ordered. “That box is private. It’s Wufei’s box, leave it alone.”

There was something bitter in Heero’s voice, something quite threatening too. Duo reluctantly placed the letter and the photos back where they were and closed the lid. Then he closed up the backpack and shoved it aside, trying to think of something else to occupy himself. It stopped him from mourning. And worrying about his own future, the fact that no-one was invincible, even if you had been a Gundam pilot.

Instantly, he perked up when another question entered his mind. “Heero, when you get older, you gonna get married? Like, be a proper man and stuff. With a job.”

“I have a job. This is our job.” Why was Duo choosing now to ask a question like that? Now of all times.

“No, I mean like a normal job. Like a normal person.”

“Duo, I am normal. I am a person.”

“No you’re not,” Duo protested resentfully. “You’re the Perfect Soldier. And I’m Shinigami. That ain’t normal, is it?”

“Can’t you just forget about all that?” Heero growled.

He stood to his feet, picked up Wufei’s bag and exited the room like an angry shadow, just as Quatre timidly entered. Tossing the blonde the bag, he gave his last orders; “Don’t let Duo into Wufei’s box.”

“What...what’s the matter with Heero?” Quatre asked, sniffing as he set down the backpack. “He seems hurt. I mean, aside from that fact Wufei’s gone.”

“I dunno,” Duo shrugged as a few new tears trickled down the blonde’s face. “ We’re all hurting, aren’t we? All of us. These new lives we have now aren't real, we'll always be soldiers...we're just five fakes.”

Quatre sniffed again.

"Make that four."

TBC

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A.N I hope things are getting a little clearer, next chapter there's gonna be more about the whole Wufei 'death' thing....it's kinda difficult typing it all and trying to stop it from getting too complicated. You see, there's so many little sub-plots whirling around I am aware sometimes it gets a bit confusing but I will manage to wrap everything up so there will be no loop-holes left floating around by the time I'm done!! Tell me what ya think, comments welcome.