Author's Note: Hey guys! So, y'all probably noticed this fic is already on Anonymous Void's page. Ya well since we're co-authors to this lovely creation of ours I figured it deserved a place on my page as well. So far I have loved being AV's co-writer, it's a whole lot of fun. Like AV has already stated, don't expect anything. Nothing is set in stone. We got a lot of ideas in our heads and we know how to use them. Mwuhahaha! ^o^ I hope you all enjoy A Streetrat's Tale.

Disclaimer: We do not own Gundam Wing.

Warning: language, death

A Streetrat's Tale

Burning Death

Dying plain ass sucks.

Solo would be the first to agree with the previous sentence and while he wouldn't be alone in saying this, he at least had some justification. He knew he was dying and he wasn't going down in a good way either. The disease that was destroying him from the inside wasn't letting up and made every gasp of breath a pain filled labor.

Of course, it didn't start off that way. In the beginning it had been a tickling sensation in the back of his throat, something that could easily be fixed by a cough. He hadn't thought much of it at first, something that had been incredibly stupid of him, he would admit, at the time. When you were surrounded by a bunch of sick kids, each of them being killed by the plague that was ravishing the space Colony of L2, a simple cough should have been a warning sign that he too had caught the disease.

But he had ignored it in favor of looking after the others, getting whatever food he could scrounge up and avoiding the Alliance soldiers who seemed to be out in force. Hell, it was getting harder to turn on a fucking water faucet to get a drink of water without one of those Alliance bastards showing up. The cops were more understanding but they could only do shit with the martial law and all.

So when his cough got worse, he had shoved it aside as he tried to make the short life of Billy's more comfortable before he died. When he started feeling hot for no apparent reason, he ignored it to rock a sick Debra to sleep, a sleep from which she would never wake up from. But when he started hacking up blood, then he found he couldn't ignore it any longer and of all times to do it, it had to be in front of Kid.

Yeah, Kid hadn't taken it well at all when he had seen the blood, the long haired brat that Solo held an incredible fondness for suddenly panicking and losing his cool. It took another coughing fit to get him to shut up for a minute but Solo took his opportunity with good grace and calmed the scared Kid down.

He had gotten the other to swear not to tell any of the others what they knew, the short haired, bandana wearing blond aware of what would happen to the others should it ever get out. He didn't want that and neither did Kid once he had time to think about it. Still didn't mean the ratty rugrat was happy with it as he stuck close to Solo's side at all hours of the day.

It's funny, now that he thought about it, that Kid hadn't gotten sick once. He spent all day with sick people but hadn't so much as sneezed. Well good for him, Solo was confident that he would survive. They were streetrats, ya know? Survival was what they knew.

It was all they knew.

As for him, things had gotten worse and worse. All of L2 was suffering and those Alliance assholes were hardly lifting a finger to do anything about it. He hated them before but now he just…hated them more; he didn't know a better word so he was sticking with what he knew.

But damn, screw L2; not only was he coughing up blood but he was starting to piss the shit out! What the hell?! He had less energy than he did before and soon found that he couldn't leave their hideout. He could but it wasn't like he was suicidal yet. He was determined to get through this, just like he had when he had first been abandoned and forced to eat out of garbage cans for a living. However, it seemed that this plague was one thing he couldn't beat.

They had heard a while back that there was an actual cure for this shit. At first, he had been ecstatic, rounding up all the sick kids he had and taking them to the nearest hospital. Reality, of course, had to bite him in the ass when they were turned away. Apparently, you could only get the cure if you had the money to pay for it.

Well that sucked. That meant most of L2 was going to die. Only the wealthy had the money to get theirs cured and they weren't in any hurry to pay for someone else's treatment. There were still loads of the cure in the Alliance base but the only reason they kept the stuff around was so that they could keep the soldiers healthy.

Everyone else was shit out of luck.

So over the past few weeks, they had to watch as their own was killed off one by one and each death was just another nail in his coffin. It was going to be his turn soon, he could feel it. By now, it was known that he was sick but the others were being very quiet about it. Instead of tearing the place down around his ears in their panic, they were trying to keep him alive, foregoing their own meals to keep him alive. It was touching, really.

It had only been a while ago that he noticed that Kid was missing. Had he run away? Or was he hiding so that he could cry in private? Well, even though it was his motto that boys don't cry, Solo knew that there were some things in which crying couldn't be helped. Not that he would be telling everybody about it. He wouldn't want them to think he was crazy right before he died.

But then Kid showed up. Much to the blonde's anger, Kid had snuck into the Alliance base and stole as much of the cure as he could carry. How could that idiot have been so stupid?! He could have gotten himself fucking killed! So much for thinking he was a survivor…

It was only then that it was found out that Kid was one short. Kid was devastated, to say the least. To have gone through…whatever it is that he had gone through just to find out that he was just one fucking short would have crushed even his spirit and he was one of the strongest people he knew. Before it could be decided, however, Solo had taken matters into his own hands…and had refused to take the cure.

Instead he gave it to…what's his name? Pip? Poo? Eh, it was close.

It broke his heart to see the tears of the others; it was clear that they wanted him to live. However, he stood firm, making sure as the others took their doses and stomping down on Kid's suggestion to go back and try to get one more dose.

He didn't want Kid to press his luck and get himself killed. The Alliance would have found out about Kid's break in and step up their security. He didn't want any more bodies on his conscious than there already were.

As the others cried their hearts out, he had Kid help him to get outside of their hideout, so that he could be outside one last time. For hours they had stayed out there, just staring out into the Colony "night" and saying nothing, the silence interrupted by Kid's sniffles and nothing else. He refused to talk about his decision, no matter how many times Kid asked why he did it. Hell, he didn't even want to fucking think about it.

So as he sat up against the wall, Kid cuddled right next to him and hugged him like he was Ashley's teddy bear. Heh, he was really cute like that, ya know? It was a shame that he wasn't going to be there to see him all grown up.

He would be a ladykiller, he could feel it.

The smaller body shifted against him and he felt Kid's head rest against his chest, just above where his heart was. It almost brought tears to his eyes that the muscle that beat erratically would stop in the near future. He wanted it to continue beating, beating for a great many years, seventy or eighty sounded good.

He felt it welling up in him, a pressure that raced up his throat, coming out in an uncontrollable hacking fit that he had no control over anymore. He hadn't had control over it in a long time now that he thought about it. His little fit seemed to have disturbed the resting Kid since the brat lifted his head up and looked at him in concern. Normally he would have done something, like shake a hand, to say he would be okay but right now, he couldn't muster up the control he needed to even lift a hand.

Blood leaked from his mouth in a trickle but it was Kid who wiped it away, rubbing his small hand against his dirty shirt to clean the limb. Solo couldn't help but show a little smile at that.

"Ya okay?" Kid asked worriedly.

"Feel like shit," he answered truthfully. Even now, he refused to break his number one rule, the same rule that he had pounded into Kid's head.

Never lie.

Kid didn't say anything after that, he didn't need to. With a nod of his head, he rested his small head on his chest, his ear pressing down to try and hear the heartbeat within. Solo chuckled as best as he was able, his body rumbling and bringing a smile to Kid's lips.

"Ya gonna be okay?" he finally gasped out, speaking to Kid of his own violation this night.

"No," Kid answered him, shaking his head no, an action that just made it seem like he was burrowing into him. "Ne'er gonna be okay. Not without ya."

"'Course ya gonna be," he replied. "Ya find a place ta be. Grow up nice 'n purdy."

"Boys ain't purdy, Solo," Kid retorted, glaring up at him. "An' I ain't a girl," he added before the blond could say anything along that line.

"'Course ya ain't," he agreed, his weakened smile still present. "Ya're gonna grow up an' be big 'n tall, ain't ya? Ya gonna be strong too. Maybe find somedin' ta do and maybe get married or some shit like dat."

"Ta a girl?" Kid wrinkled his nose. "I wanna marry you Solo! Not some dumb broad! So don't'cha die on me!"

"Marry me?" Solo repeated wryly. "Heh, didn't know boys could marry boys. 'Nother dream of yours?"

"No, it ain't!" Kid protested. "It ain't a dream! Ya'll see!"

"'Course I will," he said, humoring Kid. "Just—"

Another hacking fit interrupted him but searing pain came with it. His bony thin body nearly convulsed from it and once again blood spilled from his mouth. It took more time than he would admit before the fit passed him and by then he was feeling so lightheaded.

"Solo? Ya okay?" Kid asked, fear in his voice.

Solo didn't answer as he stared straight ahead as if in a trance. He was still alive since Kid could see his chest still rising and falling with every ragged breath he took but there was something different about him. Narrowing his eyes, Kid looked closer at his face and placed a finger on a bit of liquid that had leaked from the blonde's eyes.

He recoiled in horror as he realized that the liquid was blood.

It was then that Solo was able to pull himself back together but he could see the absolute terror in Kid's face and he easily noticed the bit of blood on his fingertip. He had felt Kid touch him earlier so he knew where that blood came from. He looked like he was in the final stage of the plague. Everyone always bled from their eyes before death came for them.

"Solo? Solo!" Kid panicked. "There's still time! I can go back and—"

"No!" he snapped, his green eyes flashing with their trademark intensity that the blond was known for. However, the sharp retort gave way for the more subdued tone as he repeated himself, "No. Too late already. Been too late fer a few days I reckon."

"Please Solo," Kid begged. "Please!"

He opened his mouth again to answer but instead of word came more coughs. A huge wad of blood was spat out and it stained the front of his shirt, even as more blood flowed out after it.

"Solo!" Kid cried as he wrapped his arms around him.

"It's…alright…" he panted. "Gonna be…okay…" He choked, trails of bloody tears rolling down his cheeks. "Take care of da others…you can do dat? Right?"

"Solo," Kid whispered.

His head lolled back as his body throbbed with pain, his heart on the verge of giving out. It was at this time that he felt that there was someone else there, someone watching them yet being too much of a chickenshit to do anything about it. He could see him, least he thought it was a him, peering at him over Kid's shoulder…and was that a wave?

For a second, he knew who it was that was watching them but it became meaningless as his vision blurred into darkness and all feeling left him.

---

Being dead…what could he say about it?

Nothing now that he wasn't alive anymore…

It was like he was in the middle of a river, or something like that, and that he was just floating on it as it carried him down stream. He felt no energy whatsoever but that was just fine with him. He didn't feel like moving anyway.

Now, he didn't know whether or not his eyes were open, nor did he care, but he felt that he was surrounded by a dark, icky blackness that was oppressive yet not overbearing at the same time. It was just there.

Not that he minded. He wouldn't have been able to do anything about it if he did.

He had no worries here, no little kids to depend on him, needing him to take care of them and whatever. His whole world just consisted of him just lying right there and not doing anything whatsoever. He could probably just do this forever and not care about a thing…

PAIN!

Burning searing pain! It had come suddenly and without warning and Solo could only convulse with it, his mouth wide open in a silent scream. His eyes opened (thus answering the earlier question of were his eyes closed) only to be blinded by the bright white light that surrounded him and pierced right into his brain.

And from there, even more pain, if that were possible, wrapped around him like a blanket and intensified with every passing second. His nerves were on fire as they screamed in agony at him and it was only a short while later that he realized that the pain had stopped.

Sure his body was throbbing with pain and every throb he felt made him want to curl up and die again but at least he wasn't being—

Not again! The burning pain washed over him and poured down into his lungs. He tried to cough it all out but it seemed that by opening his mouth, he just let even more pain in to torture him so. It just wasn't fair. What had he ever done to deserve something like this?

Well…

No! That stuff wasn't important! Even though it was pretty funny that one time—NO! Just, no!

Ah! Damn, now it felt like he was covered in fire. Flames engulfed him and blazed through out his body, moving through his veins and arteries and into every cell. Oh God, oh God, OH GOD, it hurt!

Wait…since when was death suppose to be so painful? It—DEAR JESUS! Please make it stop! He'll do anything, just please make it stop!

Oh…well that seemed to have worked. He wasn't drifting anymore but at least the pain had dulled so much that it was merely a headache. His body, though, was completely stiff and rigid and it wasn't surprising that he found he could hardly move. He could feel a source of warmth glide over him, heading down towards his feet, stop, and then move back up towards his head.

The motions of this heat or whatever it was continued like this for a couple more times before it just faded away as if it had never been there. Yet he made no intent to open his eyes, half fearing that the bright white light would blind him again.

Then, once again without warning, he was struck by one last wave of pain and a gasp escaped his mouth only for air to come rushing back into him. He had to cough as the sudden intake was too much but he found that it was easier for him to move his body.

And that it was sore, incredibly sore.

"It's about time you came to," an annoyed voice muttered from somewhere above him.

Wait, since when could he hear things again? He didn't think that the dead could even hear…much less feel agonizing pain.

"Still, I guess it would be best to give you some more shut eye," the voice said grudgingly. "So, sleep."

As if someone had flicked a switch, he was out like a light.

---

When Solo finally came to, the first thing he noticed was that he was sore, incredibly sore, like he had run all around L2 with Kid on his back without stopping once. That was taking into account the size of the Colony, all the pathways to avoid gangs, rapists, and the occasional group of Alliance soldiers, and just how heavy Kid could get without trying.

But back to the here and now, man was his body tired. If he hadn't just woken up, he would've gone back to sleep and enjoy the absence of soreness with the bliss of unconsciousness. Hell, that sounded like a good idea; why didn't he do that?

A second later, cold water splattered onto his head and he was fully awake, sputtering as he tried to get rid of the water that had gotten into his mouth and nose and replace it with sweet, sweet air. Sitting up, he glared, searching for who dared to splash him with water and oh God it hurt to move.

Unceremoniously, he flopped backwards onto his back and groaned out his misery.

"You know, it would probably be smarter to just lie still for a bit. You're still recovering you know."

There it was again! It was that voice from earlier, from when he was dead! Cracking open his eyes, making sure that he wouldn't be blinded again, he searched out the source of the voice, slowly turning his head despite the protests of the stiff muscles in his neck until he caught sight of very lean yet muscular, tall man that was watching him with a look of amusement.

Solo was sure he had never seen that shade of blond before, the way the short, wavy locks were a near white color and the way those hardened blue eyes that were somewhat slanted stared into him gave him the creeps. Still, you couldn't say that the guy was ugly. To tell the truth, he was hot.

Wait, why didn't that sound right…?

The man leaned against the solid concrete wall that formed the small room that the blonde streetrat found himself in, his arms crossed over his jacket-clad torso and legs crossed with a masculine manner. The corners of his lips twitched upwards but other than that, there was no movement from the guy whatsoever.

It was freaky.

"What are ya lookin' at?" Solo demanded. "You gonna take advantage of me or somedin'?"

"No thank you, I am in no way that inclined," the man replied, a bit of humor coloring his voice. "Why? Do you swing that way?"

Solo blushed a bright crimson color, something he hadn't done since the time Kid had dropped his pants in front of him and asked about why he had a dick.

"Fuck you ass!" he blurted out, still embarrassed.

"That's the thanks I get for saving your ass?" the man scoffed. "I save you from the brink of death and heal you for the past week with hardly any rest and that's what you have to say to me? That's a bit ungrateful, don't you agree?"

"Hey, ya're da one callin' me queer!" Solo retorted back.

"When did I ever say you were a queer?" the man replied, raising an eyebrow. "If anything, I was asking if that was where you're tastes laid. Guess that means you're a skirt chaser who's in denial."

"If I wasn't so fuckin' tired, I'd crack yer skull open," the blonde growled back.

"Onto bodily harm now, eh?" the man drawled. "Good luck with that, brat."

"I dun need luck," Solo defended. "I gots all the skills I need."

"Right," the man replied in a patronizing tone.

"Look ass, I ain't got da time fer this shit," Solo growled as he tried to push himself back up. "Thanks fer lookin' after me and all, but I gotta get back to the others 'fore dey do somedin' stupid, like get dare asses killed."

"You mean that gang of street urchins?" the man said. "And how do you propose you're going to do that? You can't even sit up straight. Besides, they moved out from that building. They could be anywhere. And they believe you to be dead. I don't think they'd take you moving around that well, do you?"

"Ya know yer really annoyin'?" Solo grumbled as he fell back onto his back, only proving this man's point further.

"So I've been told," the man said in reply. "Now lie still. I need to go over you again."

"Wha…?" Solo blinked, not comprehending what the man was saying.

The man rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, as if used to the stupidity of others. Moving away from his post, he approached the prone blond and crouched down next to him, uncrossing his arms and holding his hands above him.

Slowly, a bright green light began to emit from the man's hands and the man lowered them so that the light came into contact with the streetrat's body before moving down to his feet and back up towards his head. Awed and stumped by this display, Solo was rendered speechless for a few minutes, at the end of which he discovered that his body wasn't as sore as before.

If anything, he felt better, as if he had just woken up after sleeping on a hard mattress rather than feeling like he had been hit with a truck.

It took him a few more minutes before he was able to regain control over his voice and he looked up at the man that was now standing again, towering over the blonde.

"What da fuck was that?" Solo uttered, awed beyond belief.

"That, my foul little friend, is what most people would call 'magic,'" the man answered smugly. "The ability to manipulate psychic and psionic energies as well as outside life force energies all with the power of will and belief."

Solo blinked. "What?"

"Guess I should have just called it magic and shut up," the man groaned, rolling his eyes for a second time. "Shouldn't have expected someone like you to have understood."

"Hey, what's dat suppose ta mean?" Solo narrowed his eyes and glared at the man.

"Never mind," the man said, waving the matter away. "So you wanted to go, right? Here's your chance."

"Like hell I will!" Solo retorted. "Dat shit is neat! I ain't leavin' yer ass 'til ya teach me some of dat shit."

"So you can cause wanton destruction and expose all those others who have made magic their lives, thus endangering them to the Alliance military who would like nothing more than to use them as a brand new weapon? I think not."

"At least teach me that healin' trick!" Solo protested. "Those Alliance bastards are hoardin' all that cure away from us, like they're trying ta kill us off. Ya gotta at least let me help!"

"I don't owe you anything," the man stated coldly. "I may have saved your life because I felt sorry for you but don't think that we're going to be chums and I'll teach you everything I know. It doesn't work like that, kiddo."

"I just want ta help my gang!" Solo nearly yelled, his desperation audible in his voice. "I can't let 'em die like dat. Please, mister. Help me!"

"Sorry, but I can't," the man replied icily. "As much as I'd like to help…well, no. I've already done too much already. I'm not about to make another mistake."

"Yer makin' a mistake right now," Solo growled. "Yer pissin' me off. You dun want me as an enemy. I'll make yer life a livin' hell."

"We make our own hells," the man said. "But…" he paused, "…if you're so…set on this. I might be willing to take you on if…"

"What?" Solo demanded. "I'll do anydin'."

"Anything?" the man raised his eyebrow. "Well then, if you want me to teach you, you will not leave my side. That means no going back to your gang or trying to help some poor schmuck that comes across our way. You will do everything I tell you when I tell you to, how I want you to. If this is not what you want, then I bid you adieu and we go our separate ways."

Solo stared, flabbergasted. He…he couldn't be serious! Was he really asking him to abandon the gang? Leave them to be torn to shreds on the L2 streets? Then again, he thought bitterly, what's to say that wouldn't happen if he did go back? If he stuck around here, then he could learn things, amazing things, things he could use to help everyone.

"Alright," he finally spoke. "I'll do it."

"Are you sure?" the man asked, dubiously.

"Positive," Solo confirmed, his green eyes determined. "Yer gonna be teaching me magic, like that Harry Potter shit. Why wouldn't I?"

The man snorted. "Kiddo, Harry Potter is for pussies and drag queens. This is real magic."

He only held an arm out but Solo threw himself back as a blast of magical energy shot from the outstretched palm and slammed into one of the walls, blasting a large hole into it.

Solo could only stare as tendrils of smoke rose from the sides of the hole. "Whoa."

"Impressive, eh?" the man said nonchalantly. "Well, you better get over that real soon. Oh, by the way, you're fixing that."

Solo's eyes bulged.

"WHAT?!!"