Death Being Divine
Rating: PG13 for.language & dark subject matter.
Warnings: Angst and dark stuff. Tiny tiny shonen ai.
Feedback: Welcome. ^_____^
Archive: Nowhere. I don't have a site, but I would like someone to archive
it somewhere, so long as I know about it!!!
Disclaimer: The GW characters belong to Bandai and whoever else owns them.
If you REALLY wanna sue, I have some pocket lint you could have.
Summary: Quatre is the last of the Gundam pilots. He reflects sadly on
their deaths, but he'll soon join them.
~*~
Quatre would have cried out, if he hadn't already been resigned to his fate. In fact, he was praying for it; it hurt too much, being the last.
He hated that he was the last to die, and had to go on for so many long years without his lover and comrades. But, he was ashamed to admit, he really didn't want to have gone first.
Duo died first, almost fifteen years ago in an accident in the salvage yard he had run with Heero. The braided man had slipped from the top of a junk heap and been gored on a piece of shrapnel. He died a few minutes later, Heero had said, while holding his lover and sobbing, knowing that there was nothing to be done.
Quatre winced at the memory; the sorrow from it drowning out the physical pain deep inside his body. Soon, he thought.
Heero died barely a month after. He had been unable to go on without Duo, and the others understood his decision. The Wing pilot just wasn't himself without the other half of his soul. So Quatre and the others dutifully attended his funeral, their hearts heavy and somewhat feeling empty at the same time.
Then there was Wufei. The ex-pilot of Shenlong had refused to retire from the Preventers, even after a previous mission gone sour had left him with a permanent limp and blind in one eye. He stayed on to help train new recruits.
Now Quatre wished dearly that his friend had finally quit. Three years after the deaths of Heero and Duo, there had been a severe hostage situation, and they were somewhat short-handed. Wufei had gone in to talk to the terrorist, since they had been unable to establish radio contact with the criminal. Just as he had nearly convinced the man to lay down his arms and go peacefully, the terrorist decided, Well, what the fuck, and had then proceeded to detonate the bombs he had secretly placed around the building, instantly killing himself and everyone in it. There were no survivors.
Trowa's death was rather uneventful, considering the other three's deaths. He had gone peacefully in his sleep. He went to bed, fine, and never woke up. Quatre never forgot the feeling of waking up to Trowa's cold and lifeless body.
That had been two years ago, Quatre recalled.
He grimaced as he felt his heart thump painfully in his chest, trying desperately to pump blood through veins that were slowly constricting. He gasped as his heart gave one last feeble thump, and then.
.Nothing.
The first thing Quatre was aware of was that his eyes were closed, and he didn't was to open them. The second was a familiar feeling of warmth and security, a feeling he hadn't felt in so long. His eyelids fluttered, but he kept them shut, because whatever kind of dream he was having, it was pleasant and he didn't want it to end.
"Little one?"
The voice was soft and familiar, but he was reluctant to look. Besides, he knew what he'd see. There would be no Trowa, no anyone, and Quatre would know he was alone, not only in his bed, but in his very soul. No, he wasn't going to wake up anytime soon, thank you very much.
"Little one, please wake up."
Quatre grumbled. "No."
"Why not?" "Because when I wake up, you'll disappear and I'll be alone again."
"Are you sure?" Quatre thought. No, he wasn't sure, but he didn't want to take any chances. Then he suddenly realized his head was lying in someone's lap, and he could feel said someone's gaze on him. Slowly, hesitantly, he opened his eyes.
.and peered straight into deep, forest green eyes.
Quatre started. He blinked; unable to believe what he was seeing was real. His head was lying in Trowa's lap, and he was staring into Trowa's eyes, but that couldn't be, Trowa was dead, gone forever. So why did he feel so real?
"Is this Heaven?" he asked, feeling more than a bit foolish, but he had to know.
Trowa smiled. "As far as any of us can tell, it is."
Quatre blinked again. "Us?" he echoed.
"'Bout time you got here, Kitty-Cat. We were getting worried about you."
Duo? Quatre thought. There stood the braided baka himself, as he had been when they were soldiers, just children fighting a war that was never meant to be. He looked around at the others and at himself. They were all young again. And they stood in the middle of a field; in the distance, Quatre could see a safehouse. He looked up at Trowa again, confused.
"It's not really what any of us were expecting, really; but we're far from complaining." Wufei explained, and Quatre could see a young woman with dark hair leaning against his side who could only be Meiran.
Quatre scooted back till he was sitting in his lover's lap. Trowa simply smiled at him again, and leaned in to kiss him.
The blonde boy smiled and eagerly returned the kiss, silently thanking all the gods he knew. I'm certainly not complaining, either.
~owari~
*grin* I hope you liked. I started out in a dark mood(I bet you couldn't tell) but after I was feeling better I decided not to torture poor Quatre and give him a happy ending.
^___^
Anime Viper, International Packrat of Fanfiction "Say what is on your mind, write what is in your heart." "Why be normal when you can be unique?" "I believe in an open mind, but not so open that your brains fall out."
~*~
Quatre would have cried out, if he hadn't already been resigned to his fate. In fact, he was praying for it; it hurt too much, being the last.
He hated that he was the last to die, and had to go on for so many long years without his lover and comrades. But, he was ashamed to admit, he really didn't want to have gone first.
Duo died first, almost fifteen years ago in an accident in the salvage yard he had run with Heero. The braided man had slipped from the top of a junk heap and been gored on a piece of shrapnel. He died a few minutes later, Heero had said, while holding his lover and sobbing, knowing that there was nothing to be done.
Quatre winced at the memory; the sorrow from it drowning out the physical pain deep inside his body. Soon, he thought.
Heero died barely a month after. He had been unable to go on without Duo, and the others understood his decision. The Wing pilot just wasn't himself without the other half of his soul. So Quatre and the others dutifully attended his funeral, their hearts heavy and somewhat feeling empty at the same time.
Then there was Wufei. The ex-pilot of Shenlong had refused to retire from the Preventers, even after a previous mission gone sour had left him with a permanent limp and blind in one eye. He stayed on to help train new recruits.
Now Quatre wished dearly that his friend had finally quit. Three years after the deaths of Heero and Duo, there had been a severe hostage situation, and they were somewhat short-handed. Wufei had gone in to talk to the terrorist, since they had been unable to establish radio contact with the criminal. Just as he had nearly convinced the man to lay down his arms and go peacefully, the terrorist decided, Well, what the fuck, and had then proceeded to detonate the bombs he had secretly placed around the building, instantly killing himself and everyone in it. There were no survivors.
Trowa's death was rather uneventful, considering the other three's deaths. He had gone peacefully in his sleep. He went to bed, fine, and never woke up. Quatre never forgot the feeling of waking up to Trowa's cold and lifeless body.
That had been two years ago, Quatre recalled.
He grimaced as he felt his heart thump painfully in his chest, trying desperately to pump blood through veins that were slowly constricting. He gasped as his heart gave one last feeble thump, and then.
.Nothing.
The first thing Quatre was aware of was that his eyes were closed, and he didn't was to open them. The second was a familiar feeling of warmth and security, a feeling he hadn't felt in so long. His eyelids fluttered, but he kept them shut, because whatever kind of dream he was having, it was pleasant and he didn't want it to end.
"Little one?"
The voice was soft and familiar, but he was reluctant to look. Besides, he knew what he'd see. There would be no Trowa, no anyone, and Quatre would know he was alone, not only in his bed, but in his very soul. No, he wasn't going to wake up anytime soon, thank you very much.
"Little one, please wake up."
Quatre grumbled. "No."
"Why not?" "Because when I wake up, you'll disappear and I'll be alone again."
"Are you sure?" Quatre thought. No, he wasn't sure, but he didn't want to take any chances. Then he suddenly realized his head was lying in someone's lap, and he could feel said someone's gaze on him. Slowly, hesitantly, he opened his eyes.
.and peered straight into deep, forest green eyes.
Quatre started. He blinked; unable to believe what he was seeing was real. His head was lying in Trowa's lap, and he was staring into Trowa's eyes, but that couldn't be, Trowa was dead, gone forever. So why did he feel so real?
"Is this Heaven?" he asked, feeling more than a bit foolish, but he had to know.
Trowa smiled. "As far as any of us can tell, it is."
Quatre blinked again. "Us?" he echoed.
"'Bout time you got here, Kitty-Cat. We were getting worried about you."
Duo? Quatre thought. There stood the braided baka himself, as he had been when they were soldiers, just children fighting a war that was never meant to be. He looked around at the others and at himself. They were all young again. And they stood in the middle of a field; in the distance, Quatre could see a safehouse. He looked up at Trowa again, confused.
"It's not really what any of us were expecting, really; but we're far from complaining." Wufei explained, and Quatre could see a young woman with dark hair leaning against his side who could only be Meiran.
Quatre scooted back till he was sitting in his lover's lap. Trowa simply smiled at him again, and leaned in to kiss him.
The blonde boy smiled and eagerly returned the kiss, silently thanking all the gods he knew. I'm certainly not complaining, either.
~owari~
*grin* I hope you liked. I started out in a dark mood(I bet you couldn't tell) but after I was feeling better I decided not to torture poor Quatre and give him a happy ending.
^___^
Anime Viper, International Packrat of Fanfiction "Say what is on your mind, write what is in your heart." "Why be normal when you can be unique?" "I believe in an open mind, but not so open that your brains fall out."