Part 3: Blurry
When Shooting Stars Fall- A Gundam Wing fanfic
Part 3- BLURRY
Author : Masamune
Pairings: 1+2, 4x3
Warnings: yaoi, angst, death, NCS, violence, lime
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing! Don't sue me or whomever is archiving this fic!
/…/ =Thoughts
*…*= Emphasis
Italics =flashback
============================================================
BANG!
The gunshot echoed in the small room. As Quatre fell Duo thought about
rushing Po, but thought better to aid his friend first. Getting down on the
floor next to the gentle Arab he ripped a piece of his gray prisoner uniform
off and tried to bind up the wound in Quatre’s chest. The wound bled
profusely and showed no signs of letting the platinum blond live.
/ NO! / Duo screamed inside of his head. / Quatre! This can’t be happening,
not to Quatre. Why do all the important people in my life always die around
me? Other people shouldn’t have to get killed, especially people like
Quatre/
Trowa rushed to Quatre’s side, a look of despair across the normally serene
face. Duo applied as much pressure to the wound as possible. Gently Trowa
brushed Quatre’s hair off of his face. Quatre began to shake violently.
"It’s getting blurry, Trowa," he heard Quatre say.
/ Quatre can’t die! / The braided Shinigami thought wildly to himself. /
He’s got so much to live for. Quatre, no, this…this can’t happen to him /
Duo watched as Trowa brought his head down to his lover’s face. The silent
boy held Quatre in his arms and Duo heard them whisper to each other for a
minute, maybe less, then Quatre stopped shaking. Trowa’s tears fell to the
silently floor and mixed with Quatre’s blood. More tears joined those, and
Duo realized that they were his.
/ Oh God, no! /
---------------------------------------------------------
BANG!
Trowa watched in horror as Quatre jerked back from the impact of the bullet.
Millions of thoughts ran across his mind. He felt as though his heart had
been twisted in agony. Quatre fell to the floor. Trowa rushed over where Duo
was already kneeling, furiously attempting to stop the blood flow. Trowa
reached out and brushed back the platinum blond hair with his hand. He held
Quatre in his thin arms and felt as the warm blood released onto him.
"It’s getting blurry, Trowa," Quatre choked out.
Sally Po grinned and reholstered her pistol. She turned to the two guards
and quietly ordered, "Get the body and dump it somewhere. I don’t care
where."
"No!"
She turned to face Nichol who suddenly realized how loud his outburst had
been. He shook his head and stared Sally straight in the eyes. "Let him have
this, at least let him say goodbye," he managed. "When they’re done then
we’ll take the body."
BANG!
He grimaced as a hard blow to his face drew blood from his nose. He steadied
himself and heard Sally coldly say, "Ok Nichol. We’ll ‘let him have this’.
But don’t you ever do that again! You seem to be forgetting that these are
our enemies." She turned to the other guards. "I’ll be in my quarters if you
need me, Lt. Nichol will tell you when to remove the body." They saluted and
walked out.
---------------------------------------------------------
TIME PASSES, IT MAY HAVE BEEN WEEKS OR EVEN MONTHS BUT TIME BLENDS TOGETHER
AND HOURS MAKE NO SENSE AS DAYS GO BY AND ONE IS NOT EVEN AWARE THAT LIFE IS
SLIPPING AWAY
---------------------------------------------------------
"Fred’s sick at the infirmary so I’ll be giving you your food today," the
black man told Heero as he placed a tray of food next to his bed. "I’ll
untie you but only if you promise not to kill me. I don’t have the key to
the door anyway. We’re both locked in here."
Heero solemnly nodded and whispered through parched mouth, "I won’t kill
you. It wouldn’t do me any good to."
The guards flashed a smile and then undid the shackles and restraints that
held Heero down. Groaning slightly Heero stood up and tried to walk. He
staggered slightly but put his hand out against the wall and steadied
himself. It had been almost a month since he had been captured. Almost every
day and sometimes twice a day he heavy set guard would come in to "check on
the prisoner". Heero had forced himself everyday to become more callous and
unfeeling, even more so than Dr. J’s training had done.
He looked into the metal plate the food was sitting on and stopped. A
stranger stared back at him with cobalt eyes flashing. He was considerably
skinnier; he had even lost some of his muscle. His hair was ragged and dirty
and he had bruises on his arms, neck and face, all courtesy of the guard,
Fred. He no longer had that aura of a Perfect soldier about him. To a
passerby he would simply be a juvenile criminal, a dangerous punk maybe.
Hungrily he ate as the black security guard stood at the door, keeping his
eye warily on Heero.
---------------------------------------------------------
"Going to interrogate Barton again?" the blond OZ colonel asked as Nichol
walked down the hallway. "He still won’t talk, neither will Maxwell or Heero
Yuy. It seems that the death of their comrade had no effect on them."
Nichol turned and looked with dislike at Sally Po. "But remember that his
Excellency Treize was quite upset that you so brutally killed the Winner
boy. He does respect those pilots. "
"Hmph. And you do too. I see no use in keeping the pilots any further. Its
clear that they won’t talk and they still are a threat even without their
Gundams. Oh and Lt. Nichol, do remember to try and hold your tongue. I can’t
imagine that you’d want me to send you back to special assignment at the
animal testing lab for a month again."
---------------------------------------------------------
BANG!
Nichol shut the interrogation room door, still with the image of Sally Po’s
smiling face in his head. God how he hated that bitch. Then he saw
Trowa, sitting at the table and gasped.
Trowa had lost incredible weight since he had last seen him. His brown hair
which normally hung over the right side of his face was dirty and
unorganized, though it still obscured the right side of his face. His one
visible emerald eye had a haunted look deep in it, even more so then usual.
It was obvious to Nichol that he had taken the death of Quatre in a very bad
way.
"It’s been what? A month since I last saw you?" Trowa engaged in
conversation almost right away. "Duo told me what you did the day," his
voice caught. "The day Quatre was killed."
"I’m terribly sorry for your loss," Nichol said. A hint of sadness in his
voice. "I didn’t know that Col. Po was going to kill him. It won’t happen to
any of you though; his Excellency Treize won’t allow it."
"None of that matters anymore," Trowa quietly said. "Nothing matters now
that my Quatre is gone." He looked up at Nichol, no tears in his eyes but
visibly upset. "I guess you’ll want to start the interrogation now," he
said.
"No," Nichol replied as he finally sat down in a chair opposite
Trowa. "I just wanted to apologize, Nanashi."
Trowa gave a soft intake of breath.
/How does he know that name? How could he possibly know? /
"Nanashi, I never told you my full title" Nichol stood again. "I’m Lt.
Russell Nichol. I was born on L1 and lived out most of my teens and early
20s on L3."
They never did keep enough lights on in the kitchen. Not in that apartment,
that place of so much pain and suffering.
"Shut da fuck up Nanashi an’ get me somthin’ t drink! Worthless piece of
shit!"
"Not true! He’s a good fighter, and a great fuck! Hahaha!"
"Yeh he’s real tight, but cuz he’s so young dat should be expected. Hey
Russ! You didn’t get any of dat ass tonight did ya?"
"Do you remember me, Nanashi?"
"Russell is ‘too moral’ for that kind of stuff! He’s gonna wait until he’s
married before he gets his nuts off!"
"Hahaha! Yo Nanashi! Get the fuck back in here with my fuckin’ drink will
ya?!?"
"It’s just that I don’t think we should be doing this to a kid!" a quiet
voice said from a corner of the apartment. "He’s just a kid. We could do
the same with some prostitutes."
"But dat wuld deplete our cash Russell! Where da fuck wuld we gets our
supplies with?"
"We’d figure something out, I’m sure. I just don’t like this." A soft spoken
tenor, Russell again.
"Spent some time with a rebel mercenary group on L3. That’s where I got most
of my battle training actually." Trowa looked at Nichol. "Didn’t stay too
long though."
/ He’s the mechanic that stayed with us. Russ, wow, he’s changed a lot since
then. /
"You used to bleach you hair then," Trowa softly said, remembering an often
out spoken young man fixing a car so it would break down after 10 minutes of
driving it.
Nichol just nodded.
---------------------------------------------------------
"Did I ever tell you that you have the nicest face?" Fred the jail guard
asked Heero as he pulled up his pants. "It would help if you at least played
along sometimes. You ain’t able to do nothing about it so you might as well
enjoy."
Heero gritted his teeth as Fred roughly put his prisoner uniform back on.
The large guard had come back from the infirmary and had been eager to have
his way with Heero. Although Heero had to admit that he was gentler today
than in many days past.
BANG!
Heero was just wishing that Fred would at least wash the semen off of him
after he raped him when the door to the cell opened, startling both him and
the guard. A black man dressed in OZ uniform entered holding a submachine
gun to his side. Quickly he glanced at Heero lying on the bed.
"Good, this one’s still here," he said, panting for he was out of breath.
"Prison break, C Block. One of them was killed trying to make a break for
it. The other ran off, he fucked up a few people and we can’t find him
anymore. Col. Po is pissed and I thought he might have come here to try to
free his friend."
/ Prison break? ‘His friend’. Trowa and Duo must have made a break for an
escape! /
"You need me?" Fred growled roughly. Staring at the black soldier.
/ One of them was killed, shit, shit, Duo. /
/ Get a grip on yourself Yuy! You have to take this chance and manage to get
out of here. Try to get the guard close to you, then kill him. I’m sure
you’ll be able to do it some way or another. /
/ Fuck you! / Heero screamed at himself, to himself. / I *love* Duo! There!
I said it! I love that braided baka more than anything else in the world. I
don’t care about the mission or being a Perfect Soldier/
"If there’s any trouble here just hit the alarm, got it Fred?"
/Just lay low and wait for the opportunity. /
---------------------------------------------------------
"Hey, Trowa,"
"…"
"Hey do you believe in God, Trowa?" the American asked. It had been almost an
hour since Duo had stopped trying to converse with Trowa. The silent boy
stood in a corner of the cell; arms folded and eyes shut.
Then the one visible green eye opened.
"What brought this on?" he asked the boy with chestnut hair.
"I just wanted to talk to you! Get to know you a little better." Duo put his
manic grin back on. "It’s hard when I just tell stories about how much ass
Deathscythe can kick compared to your Gundam."
Trowa shifted his weight and ceased leaning on the wall. For a moment it
appeared that he wasn’t going to respond. Then he finally said, "No I don’t
believe in God. Never really have. I used to wish that there was a God but
long ago I concluded that all that was pointless."
"Yeah, know what you mean," Duo sighed. "Only real thing I believe in is
Death. Closest thing to a God. Ha! Death claims everyone
eventually…everybody goes straight to hell."
"I don’t think so," Trowa began slowly. "I think that when we die we go
someplace better. Not like heaven…but whatever place our mind thinks is
closest to that."
"Ch’!" Duo spat. "A place like Heaven! Nobody knows that for sure! All I
know is that when you die everything gets blurry and fades to black."
They both stopped talking for a second as a guard slid their food tray into
the room. Both sighed for a moment and then Duo glanced hungrily at the
tray.
/ Yes! That potato mashed gruel stuff! Better then…what *is* that thing on
the tray? /
He slowly walked over and picked it up. It was a keycard. Trowa came over
and examined it carefully. "It unlocks the storage room, it cant’ help us
get out."
/ Damn! / Duo thought. / Or possibly…/
"Oh shit!" a voice yelled from the hallway.
"Hey what happened?" another voice asked.
"Shit! I dropped my fuckin’ keycard somewhere! Shit, must be on that goddamn
food tray. Yo Jason! Open that cell door so I can get my card!"
"I don’t know, man," a third voice said. "Those prisoners are pretty
dangerous, watch your ass while you’re in there."
Two sneering eyes looked through the door at Trowa and Duo. "They’re just
kids!"
/ That’s what you think buddy! / Duo thought to himself. Wildly he gestured
for Trowa to move away from the door. Then a clicking sound came as the door
slid open and a red headed OZ officer walked in, gun drawn. He surveyed the
room and gave another glance at Trowa and Duo. The door was still wide open!
/ Oh yes! We’re going to get out of here thanks to this idiot! /
"If I were you guys I wouldn’t try anything stupid," the guard nervously
said glaring at Duo who was grinning like a madman. "I’ll shoot you dead in
a second!" He walked over to the food tray only to discover that his keycard
was gone. He turned to Trowa, who was standing propped up against a wall
near him and asked, "What’d you do with my card?"
Trowa jerked a thumb at Duo and all too helpfully replied, "He’s got it."
The guard turned with a snort of frustration towards Duo. He was about to
speak when Trowa stabbed his neck with a fork from the food tray. He let out
a quick cry. The guard was shocked as Trowa stabbed him again, finishing him
off. Outside Duo could hear people talking, obviously they thought something
was wrong.
"Let’s go Tro-man!" Duo yelled as he sped off towards the open door.
Trowa nodded as he picked up the automatic machine gun the guard had
dropped. Simultaneously they poked their heads out into the hallway, the
first time they had been out of the cell in ages.
/ Fuck me. /Duo thought as he quickly jumped back into the jail cell. / They
all got to eat lunch outside of our cell on *today* of all days! /
Trowa opened up with his machine gun, sending three of the eating OZ
soldiers into the next dimension. He turned to fire on more as he realized
with a sinking feeling that there were *a lot* of guards there.
One ran to sound the alarm, he was quickly mowed down by gunfire.
"Come on, Duo!" Trowa yelled as he made a break down the hallway, turning to
shoot at the OZ soldiers who were finally recovering from the shock and
drawing their guns.
"Shit!" Shinigami yelled as he made out in a mad dash after Trowa.
/ Escaping used to be *soo* much easier than this / he thought to himself. /
I wonder how I’ll spend the first night out of jail? A club or host a party?
Or…/
BANG! …(Actually more like the "ratatatatat" sound machine guns make)
Sharp pain ran through Duo’s body as an OZ soldier found his mark. Duo
crashed to the floor, skidding some on the floor before coming to a stop
against a wall.
/ Shit! Come on, get up and run! / Duo screamed to his body.
He reached out with his arms to pull himself up but with a sickening
realization found that his legs wouldn’t move. Then another sharp pain shot
through his leg as another OZ soldier’s bullet hit him.
/No./ Duo thought with disbelief. / I’m paralyzed! Shit this is the
end…funny…never thought it would end like this. Didn’t even get to self
detonate or anything cool like that. /
"Aah!" Duo cried as someone shot him repeatedly. He slumped over to his side
and stared up at the ceiling, pain running through all of his body.
"Enough! He’s dead already!" he heard a voice shout.
Turning his head he saw a young man dressed in OZ uniform lowering a gun,
his hands were shaking as another soldier came up beside of him. Then Duo
realized that the pain was beginning to leave him, he felt relaxed but
ungodly tired.
/ Got to sleep for a bit / he thought to himself as he lay on the floor, his
life slowly slipping away. His vision became suddenly very blurry. / And it
ends like this /
/ I wish…I wish I could have told Heero how I felt b, before…before I…/
He coughed, blood appeared. Gunfire sounded in the background, but of course
Duo could not hear it…
-end part 3
©2001 by Mansamune. Please do not remove without permission.
