Notes: Thank you to fangirlwithak for the beta! This fic is a Zombie!AU. I thought it was time. Established 1x5, Eventual 2x3. Some of the characterizations DO start off as OOC. I promise there are reasons.
Warnings: Semi-Graphic Violence. See individual chapters for warnings. Eventual Character Death.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing
Quatre sat down at the base of the tree and sighed. Taking his gun out of its holster, he sat it on his pack, pulling out a chocolate bar. His nose wrinkled in disgust. He needed supplies, and soon. The woods around him were still thick, and the feeling of being watched was settled firmly between his shoulder blades. If he was lucky, there would be a place to resupply soon. If not...Quatre didn't want to think about it. Hearing voices, he froze, candy wrapper glinting in what little sun there was.
Above him, Duo caught the scent and grinned. Chocolate. The blond had chocolate. Duo licked his lips. He hadn't had chocolate since before the woods, before the zombies and the nights in trees, hoping he wouldn't be found. Duo tilted his head, watching as Quatre paused, then pounced, hurling himself out of the tree and on to the blond, ravenous. They grappled, Quatre reaching for his gun and shouting as he struggled against whatever had him, trying to make it out.
It came in bursts: dark, wild hair, tangled and matted. Large, blue eyes, mouth opened in a snarl. It didn't look dead. Quatre's hands closed tighter on the chocolate bar, and Duo lunged, biting his shoulder and yanking at the candy.
The feeling of teeth in his shoulder made him freeze. Rigid and white, Quatre began to scream, even as a hand clapped over his mouth. He looked up in to a pair of unfamiliar green eyes.
"Shhh. You'll draw them to us. You're okay. He's not a zombie. Duo just wanted the chocolate," Trowa pulled his hand back, watching Duo with mixture of amusement and affection. Sitting in the tree, hair tumbling loose over his shoulders, Duo was eating the chocolate happily, licking his fingers clean, then trilling a greeting to Trowa. Wufei and Heero stared, then covered their mouths with their hands, hiding their grins. Quatre whirled, cheeks going white to red as he growled. Stalking towards Trowa, he snarled slightly.
"Why didn't he just ask?" Quatre fumed, glaring at the newcomers. They had all managed to sneak up on him. How was he going to stay alive if he could be ambushed by a wild man and a group of three, noisy men. Trowa shrugged, grinning back at Duo as he dropped from the tree, face still bearing traces of the chocolate bar. Giving Trowa a smug look, Duo wiped his face with what was left of his sleeve.
"He doesn't really talk a lot." Trowa knew Duo. He'd seen him before, had brought him food, and they shared the wary, tentative friendship of the hunted.
"Does he know how?" Quatre demanded, still glaring. His voice was caustic, hands balled at his side. Behind him, Duo rolled his eyes, then crept silently towards the blond's bag. Heero watched, elbowing Wufei in the side.
"Sure. He talks like a motherfucker, when he wants," Trowa was still grinning. Duo was busy eating the rest of Quatre's chocolate.
"He's going to make himself sick," Heero noted, finally, and Quatre paused mid retort. He turned and lunged, yanking the pack away from Duo and glaring at him. Through a mouth full of chocolate, Duo growled, then paused, body tensing. He cocked his head to one side. Wufei tense as well, hand going to his gun.
"Do you—" he started.
"Yes," Quatre's teeth were clenched. He didn't want company. He wanted to fight alone. He reached for his own gun. Duo tugged briefly at Trowa, then jumped, catching the lowest branch of the tree and hauling himself up. Heero watched, then frowned.
"Isn't he going to help?"
"With what? He's not armed," Trowa hefted his machete, and the group tensed, ready and waiting as Duo climbed higher in the to tree. He hid his face against the bark, swallowing against the pit of loss in his stomach.
From the ground, Heero watched him grimly. Unarmed, the trees were the only reason the boy could be alive. Heero wondered how many groups Duo had seen torn apart, then looked at Trowa. There was a familiarity between them that gnawed at Heero's consciousness. He felt he should recognize it.
Trowa's eyes flickered up, then set with grim determination on the target as they filtered their way out trees. There were only 30. A small group. The four men drew tighter, then surged out. Quatre fought fiercely, abandoning his gun in close quarters and drawing a machete of his own. Behind him, Wufei and Heero aimed and fired, keeping their bullets clear of their friends and taking down the ones on the sides.
Beheading what he could reach from his place at the base of the tree, Trowa felt his knees go week. The machete was heavy in his hand, and he could feel his grip slipping even as he went down, the rotting grey figures bearing down on him. He licked his lips and shut his eyes, waiting for the sting of teeth in his flesh.
It never came. Trowa heard the sound of a body hitting the ground, felt the air brush by his face, and then nothing. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring in to the dirty length of Duo's hair. Duo stood over him, wielding the machete with a practiced ease that made Trowa pale. He watched until the zombies were gone, until all five of them were panting and wiping sweat from their brow, heads strewn across the forest ground. Duo growled, stabbing the blade in to the ground next to Trowa's legs, eyes electric with anger.
And then he was gone, in the trees, climbing and jumping among the branches. He was heading for the road. Trowa panted and watched as Duo stopped. Swallowing, Trowa stood. The message was clear: Duo was waiting.
"Did you know he could do that?" Wufei demanded, watching as Trowa cleaned his blade. The Russian shook his head. He'd never seen Duo fight before.
"He usually just runs. Or climbs higher," Trowa trailed off and shook his head again, then turned to Quatre. The blond was frowning, still, expression set.
"I'm Trowa. This is Heero, and Wufei," he pointed them out in turn. "You can come with us."
"I travel alone," Quatre shouldered his bag, hanging his machete at his hip, sticking his chin up. Wufei laughed, giving him a look, expression full of scorn.
"Yes. Alone and hungry," the Chinese man rolled his eyes, shrugging off Heero's hand on his arm. "We all stand a better chance of surviving together."
"Wufei," Heero spoke in a low voice, face pale. Wufei clenched his jaw, then turned. He knelt next to his lover, pushing up his shirt to inspect the wound on his side, ignoring the others with firm determination.
"We could all help each other," Trowa's eyes were on Duo's stiff back. Quatre eyed all of them.
"My name is Quatre," he was abrupt and cold as he moved, following after Duo. Trowa waited with Wufei and Heero, then trudged on. Above them, Duo moved like a ghost.