Cracked Reflections Prologue/5+ Epilogue & Prologue
        Through the Glass
Rating: R
Series: Gundam Wing
Genre: AU/Angst
Pairings: 1x2x1 (background), 3+4+3 (suggested), 5xMerian
Spoilers: Yes, but only of you can recognize the changes. (Can't say more or I'll ruin the story.)
Warnings: (Het, Yaoi, Death, Angst, AU (in a weird way), Violence, Suggested NCS, Prostitution, Suicide, Drugs, Bastardized Quatre (I think...), Language, and Generalized Freaky Things
By Moon Faery
Archived: (eventually at) Moon Faery's Garden (https://www.angelfire.com/anime4/moon_faerys_garden/); FFN (http://www.fanfiction.net); Kiss of Death [my new site!] (https://www.angelfire.com/gundam/kissofdeath/);

Disclaimer: A statement created solely to save one's ass from becoming lawn for the proverbial legal mower. I do not own Gundam Wing, nor does anyone I know own it. However, this story line and plot are MINE. (Holds fic close to her.) Grrrr....

Author Notes: It looks almost like a re-play of "It's a Wonderful Life"... But I know that it can't be, because I've never seen the movie. And I intend to keep it that way. (grin)

*** AC 195 ***

Duo slid out of bed carefully, moving slowing to avoid disturbing the sleeping body next to him. Heero moved in his sleep, snuggling up against Duo's pillow and wincing as the bandages on his ribs tugged the wound. Brushing his bangs out of his face, Duo walked across the room and sat at the vanity, heedless of his nudity. His hair swept out behind him like a silky cloak, dancing across his thighs and tickling the back of his knees. It had been in the room when they'd rented the apartment, and neither had found the time to remove it. He stared into the mirror on it, eyes huge and dark in his pale face, Behind him, Heero stirred again, shifting the sheets enough that Duo could see the blood begin to seep its way through the bandages.

The last mission he'd been sent on had gone sour. Everything from Gundam malfunctions to obvious sabotage had made it rank up on the list of their worst ventures yet, even worse than the time Heero had taken out that ship-load of pacifists. And, as usual, his lover had been right in the middle of it all, earning himself several broken bones, a minor concussion and a gash along his side and rib cage that was bound to leave one hell of a scar.

They'd patched him up as best as they could, but it was no substitute for a real doctor and a clean hospital. Heero had insisted that he was fine, but Duo saw the way he moved carefully and grimaced when he thought no one was looking. His love was seriously injured, and he couldn't do a thing to help other than watch and hope.

But they were all starting to have problems. More than once he'd had to spend the night in Quatre's bed, comforting the blonde when he woke up screaming with the horrors. A week ago Wufei's knee started to make disturbing cracking sounds, and now he limped on it occasionally. Everyday Trowa found it harder to make those amazing flips of his, and Duo himself had long since stopped counting his own aches and war injuries. Most of them he didn't even remember getting; for all he knew, they could have been from his childhood on L2.

They were old- old at fifteen and getting older with every battle, every blown building, every innocent life lost because of what they fought for. 'Even the OZ soldiers don't deserve to die in this God forsaken war,' he thought ruefully, still staring himself in the eyes. 'Hell, most of them are just trying to feed their families. At least we've got a cause. They just get a paycheck.'

It was all because the first Heero Yuy'd been assassinated. If he hadn't have died, the war never would have happened.

"Damnit all," he whispered, reaching out his right hand to brush the reflection's left one. "Just this once, I wish I could change the past... Just this once..."

***

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