Overload

By GreenLady

Warnings:  In this chapter, swearing, minor violence, and yaoi.

Disclaimer:  Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sunrise, and whoever else.  I am in no way affiliated with any of these agencies, nor do I profit off of their hard work.  The key word here is fan fiction.

Notes:  Thanks to Misanagi and Anne for the fic stalking, and of course, everyone else for their wonderful feedback.  Thanks also to my beta (for her support in all my endeavors), Willowbranch. 

Part 3

In the silence that followed, a grenade could have gone off and no one would have flinched.  They all stared at the tiny woman hovering in the doorway, the gentle, affable smile curving her lips a strange incongruence to the bombshell she had just dropped.

Heero frowned.  It was ridiculous.  He knew it was, it had to be, but for some reason his stomach was tightening, as if it knew more than his brain.  He turned his head to look at Quatre.  The blond was still, shoulders rigid, neck bent as he picked absently at the bedcovers.  He wasn't looking at any of them. 

The tightening in Heero's stomach got worse, and a strange, unexplainable lump in his throat prevented him from voicing anything.

Luckily, (or not), that wasn't true for everyone in the room.  "Mother!"  Dr. Hark looked scandalized, and his face was turning a painful shade of red.  "Jesus, don't say those kinds of things, I don't want to have to have you banned from the hospital!"  She sniffed, insulted, and her son turned quickly to Heero and Quatre.  "Please ignore her.  She's in to a lot of spiritual new-age-y stuff."  He waved his hand vaguely at the last.  "I apologize for her behavior.  She doesn't mean any harm, really, she's just . . . eccentric."

"Now you listen here young man!"  She pointed her finger angrily, almost poking Dr. Hark in the eye with the motion, and ignoring him as his face turned even redder with embarrassment.  "Modern medicine can't fix everything, and the research available on the brain is, if I may speak frankly, completely dismal.  This poor child over here," she gestured at the still very quiet Quatre, "is out of your field of expertise.  Why, the only thing you could do for him is to feed him so many sedatives that he wouldn't know up from down and then lock him up in some overpriced institute!  And that certainly isn't a very good solution for anybody, let alone an empath!"

Dr. Hark stepped back from her admonishing finger and covered his face with his hands.  "Oh god, why do you always have to embarrass me like this?"  He straightened abruptly, probably realizing he was sounding like a whiny teenager.  He took a deep breath and then cut her off before she could say anything more damaging.  "I'm the doctor here!  I didn't spend six years in medical school in order to humor your delusions!" 

Mrs. Hark was suddenly turning as red as her son, but this was from anger, not embarrassment.  But before she could really lay in to him, a quiet voice said something that derailed all arguments.

"It's true, isn't it?"

Heero wasn't speaking to the shouting, red-haired pair.  The question was directed at the too-quiet Quatre.  The blond looked up slowly, expression surprised and vaguely panicked.  Heero continued before anybody else could cut in.  "It makes sense.  The way you've been acting the last couple of months:  the way you flinch from large crowds, and the way you seem to know what I'm thinking before I even do myself."  The way he gazed at Quatre was piercing.  "I don't understand everything yet, but I know you've been lying to me.  You've been . . . manipulating me."  He shook his head slightly, though the motion didn't really seem to convey anything beyond a vague bemusement.  "You're good.  Really good, for a long time I wasn't even aware that something was wrong.  But now I realize.  No more lying, Quatre." 

The silence that followed was expectant.  Dark blue eyes pinned the blond, waiting patiently for some kind of answer.  Quatre had gone pale, and was focusing even harder on picking at a loose thread from his blanket.  Finally Heero decided that a bit more prodding would be necessary.  "Am I right?"  He said sharply.

Slowly, Quatre's gaze rose from his lap.  "Yes."

Dr. Hark made a strangled noise.  "Oh come on!"  Quatre shot him a startled look.  "Mr. Winner, I can't believe that you're getting taken in by this.  You're a businessman!  This is . . ."

He was cut off rudely as Mrs. Hark smacked him on the back of his head.  She didn't really hit him very hard so his strangled "mother!" wasn't completely justified.  She turned to Quatre and smiled placidly.  "Now my dear, you really shouldn't be continuing like this.  I can help." 

The blond seemed to be at a loss, so Heero spoke up.  "How do you know about any of this?"  His tone was that of an interrogator.  "Just who are you?"

The redheaded woman's smile widened.  "Oh I'm sorry, I guess I forgot to introduce myself.  I'm Nora Hark."  She took a step forward, and waved slightly, in a patently unnecessary gesture.  "I'm an empath too."  

"Oh god."  Dr. Hark muttered, putting a hand over his face.

Heero ignored the man and turned to look at Quatre, who was, in turn, staring at Nora with a vaguely curious expression of dawning comprehension.  "Quatre?"

Heero didn't need to ask anything else; the blond seemed to understand him just fine.  "I think . . . I think it's true.  Not only is she not lying, she feels . . . different."   

The Japanese man nodded briskly.  Strangeness had been verified, and Heero was a man of action.  "You say you can help?"

She stared at him, expression vaguely bemused by his ready acceptance.  "I can."

"Good."  Heero nodded, once, and that was that.  Quatre's head swiveled back and forth between them.  He actually felt a little left out of the decision making process. 

The doctor was looking at them all like they had sprouted three heads.  He started to say something, but then seemed to choke.  It looked like the proverbial cat had his tongue.

Mrs. Hark looked at him, smiling sweetly.  "Something wrong dear?"

Her son shot her a dirty look, than looked at his patients again.  When he looked back at his mother, his expression was resigned.  "If you all want to buy into her delusions I can't stop you.  Now if you'll excuse me I have other patients to see to.  Ones that actually want my help."  He turned on his heel and stalked out the door.

Nora looked after him.  For a minute, her expression was disappointed.  Then she shook her head as the door slammed shut, ridding herself of any lingering melancholy.  Her voice, when it came, was cheerful.  "Well, somebody's sulking."  She turned back to Quatre and Heero and beamed.  "Well now. . ."  She waited expectantly.

Quatre looked up at her and smiled uncertainly, Heero looked at them both and sighed.  "This is Quatre Winner, I'm Heero Yuy."  He was very much not used to having to make the introductions, but the blond looked more than a little thrown.  "So, if you're an empath, than you obviously know how to control it, if you've survived this long.  So how do we fix it?"

Nora shot him a stern look.  "Now young man, being an empath isn't something that has to be 'fixed.'  It's not a disease, if it was I'd let my son help you.  Quatre, was it?"  He nodded timidly.  "Why don't you tell us exactly what it's like right now."

Quatre looked at her for a minute before finally speaking.  "If you're an empath you should be able to tell." 

Her lips curved upwards.  "This is more for Heero's benefit than it is mine.  I think your life partner would like to know." 

Quatre blinked at her.  Now how had she known that he and Heero . . . oh, right.  The blonde's head bent as he went back to picking at the blankets.  "I . . . well, it's like . . ."  He paused, and then said the rest in a rush.  "It's just too much, there's too much inside my head, I don't know what belongs to me, and what belongs to everyone else right now."  He dared to look up, but then avoided Heero's eyes, instead deciding to look at Nora.  "I feel like I'm losing my mind."

The red-haired woman nodded slowly.  "And that's what could happen, without knowing how to deal with it.  It's driven people insane before."

Heero was looking at her sharply.  "So that's why Quatre collapsed?"

Instead of answering that, Nora replied with her own question.  "Tell me, young man, why exactly are you in this hospital bed?"

Heero's eyes narrowed in suspicion.  "Can't you tell?

Her lips twitched.  "I'm an empath, Heero Yuy, not a mind-reader.  There's a difference."

Heero studied her for a second, and then shrugged.  "I was shot."

Nora lifted her eyebrows in surprise, and Quatre felt the need to explain further.  "He's a Preventer.  It happened in the line of duty."

"Ah."  Nora sent Heero a serious look.  "You might want to find a less dangerous line of work."

"What?"

She sighed softly.  "What I mean is, it's your fault he collapsed."  She seemed to replay her words back, and then winced.  "Oh dear, that didn't come out right.  What I meant to say was that, if I'm not wrong, Quatre passed out the same time you were shot.  The exact same time, right down to the second."  She gave them both a slightly exasperated look.  "Now come on children, don't be dense."

Heero stared at her, paling slightly.  "So what you're saying is that if I had been killed, Quatre would have . . ."

"He would have died too."

Heero had gone still, and then he shook his head.  "But that doesn't make sense.  Quatre can feel everyone, and we're in a hospital.  There have been people dying around him, and he hasn't reacted that severely.  Plus, I wasn't exactly in close proximity when I was shot."

Nora nodded.  "What your saying is all true, and you've also inadvertently hit on the cure, if you'll excuse my terminology.  As an empath, you can never completely block people out.  What you can do is narrow your focus a little."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"Let's see, how to explain this?"  She tapped a finger to her chin thoughtfully.  "Ah!  I know!  Have you ever had something important to concentrate on?  Like if you're reading in a crowded airport.  It's loud and distracting around you, but if you're reading a good book then you completely tune out all that other noise."

Quatre nodded.  "I understand what you're saying, but how would I go about doing that?  It sounds like it would take a lot of concentration, I wouldn't be able to do anything else, and if my focus slipped, I'd be back to square one."

She shook her head.  "No, it's not really that complicated.  And maybe the book analogy wasn't the best, because it's not some inanimate object you'll be focusing on, it's a person.  And you're not really focusing, your attention is just kind of . . . stuck."  She frowned, trying to think of how to put it.  "It begins naturally, you already have a focus, or a bond, if you will, with someone.  That's why you fainted when he was shot."  She gestured at Heero.  "You're already more connected to him then to anyone else.  All you have to do now is only concentrate on that connection.  Am I making sense?"  

Quatre nodded, but Heero was looking at her sharply.  "But that means that if something were to happen to me, Quatre would still die along with me."

The blond glared at Heero, finally meeting his eyes for the first time since this whole conversation had started.  "Why are you making such a big deal of that?  Are you planning to die?  I thought we'd gotten rid of your death wish."

They glared at each other.  Nora sighed and looked like she was going to say something, but then she turned to the door instead.  "Someone's coming.  Friends of yours?"

Quatre looked up, and for a second, his eyes glazed slightly.  "Duo and Trowa, and they're both pretty upset."

Shortly afterwards, Heero heard footsteps and the door to their room swung open.  Nora had already moved to the side and stood watching calmly. 

Duo burst through first, and he looked pissed.  "Damn it, Q, what the hell?!  I get back to find that you've been hospitalized, and that Heero got shot, and what the fuck is wrong with you both?!"  

Trowa followed at a more sedate pace, but his eyes quickly scanned over both patients, checking for damage.  "How are you two doing?"  Green eyes shifted to Nora.  "Hello.  Did we interrupt something?"

Duo blinked and turned, noticing the red-haired woman's presence for the first time.  "Who the hell's this?"  He took in her colorful clothes.  "Doesn't look like a doctor or nurse to me."

Nora pursed her lips in disapproval.  "My, you're a rude one."  Her eyes sharpened suddenly and she studied him carefully.  Duo had to fight the urge to take a step away from the penetrating stare.  "Oh, now isn't that interesting.  I didn't think you could have more than one."

All four boys looked at her with varying states of confusion.  Then Quatre shook himself slightly.  "Duo, Trowa, this is Nora Hark, she's my doctor's mother."

Trowa murmured a greeting, but Duo was looking at her suspiciously.  "You're the doctor's mother?  And she's visiting you why?"

Heero ignored them both, and pinned her with one of his intense stares.  "What do you mean 'more than one?'"

Nora didn't seem the least bit intimidated, though she did turn to look at Quatre questioningly.  "I see that you're close with these people, but close enough to talk to them about this?" 

The blond looked at her.  He had a feeling that this was as close to tact as she ever got.  "You can talk in front of them."

She turned back to Heero.  "Apparently Quatre has another bond started, one with the rude boy.  It's not as intense as the one between you two, but it's still definitely there."

Duo looked at them.  "What the hell are you all talking about?"

Quatre looked up at him.  "It's my empathy Duo."

The longhaired pilot stared at him for a second then started to swear.  "Fuck, this is the reason you're in the hospital isn't it?  God damn it Quatre, I told you that you needed to get help for this crap!"

Trowa, at least, still looked confused, and it took about ten minutes of explaining to get everyone on the same page.  Heero was largely silent during it all, and Quatre kept shooting him concerned glances, no doubt able to feel the turmoil that was suddenly roiling through his thoughts.  Heero looked at Duo, who was still loudly fuming.  Duo had known.  Duo had known even before him.  And Quatre had a bond with Duo, one that was like the one he had with him.

It was a good thing Quatre wasn't a mind reader.  He would not have liked the thoughts that were currently going through Heero's mind.

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Wufei slammed the shot glass on to the chipped surface of the bar counter.  He held up his hand in a signal for another, and noticed that he seemed to have an extra pair of fingers.  He squinted blearily.  Well good, that meant that he was hopefully close to passing out.

His resolve to not drown his sorrows hadn't lasted very long, all it had taken was an accidentally turn of the radio, bringing up one of Duo's favorite, (and consequently, loud) rock songs.  And now here he was, getting royally pissed.

He again gestured for another drink, this time succeeding in getting the bartender's attention.  But instead of pouring, the man turned and gave him a stern look.  "I think you've had enough."

Wufei peered at the man.  It took a moment for the words to register, and when they did his eyes narrowed incredulously.  "You're cutting me off?"  He was inordinately pleased by how intelligible he sounded, only slurring the words a little.

The bartender didn't look nearly as impressed.  He grunted and jerked a thumb in the direction of the door.  For a second, Wufei listed forward dangerously.  Why that smug bastard, who does he think he is?  But then he managed to get a hold of himself.  A Preventer getting into a bar fight would be frowned upon.  Une would never let him hear the end of it, and if there was one thing that woman could do extra well, it was nag.

Wufei heaved himself to his feet and stood (okay, tottered) until he felt fit to move.  He headed to and out the door, steps only slightly unsteady.  He started to go to his motorcycle, than thought better of it and took out his communicator to call a cab.  After finishing the call, he leaned against the side of the dingy building to wait. 

The parking lot was nearly empty; there were only three other cars plus his motorcycle.  This wasn't too much of a shock.  It was midday, and only the truly dedicated were out drinking this early.  Or the truly desperate.

Wufei automatically scanned the surrounding area, but because of his inebriated state, it took his eyes three passes before his brain finally started sending him a warning.  There was a black car parked to the side, hidden by the bulk of the building from prying eyes in the street.

 Its engine was running.

Wufei's instincts screeched a belated warning.  Casually, he uncrossed his arms and began to walk, cursing quietly to himself when he realized how unsteady his steps were. 

Before he could get far, the car pulled around and paced him, before smoothly pulling in front and blocking his path.  Wufei stopped and tensed as three masked men got out of the car. 

They had guns.