Disclaimer: standard disclamiers apply, I don't own them, so you don't sue me
ok, this is NOT a normal pairing, I know that already. In fact, i don't think it has ever been written before. But after this, im returning faithfuly to my 1+2 or 3+4 pairings!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Quatre Winner ran across the bloodied battlefield, his path set for the giant, fallen mobile suit. He collapsed beside the mech, tearing away what he could with his bare hands, his soft skin was scorched by the hot metal, and his fingers bled from small splinters of the gundanium alloy that lodged in the palms of his hands. The cockpit was completely crushed, and small fires were breaking out on the field, he knew he didn't have much time.
~Flashback~
"Come on Trowa, we can get these guys!" the American's voice had said over the comm system, sparking with a light humor. They had been badly outnumbered, but at that time, it had seeme like they would be making a comeback, and pounding the enemy Leo suits into oblivion. Heero was leading the five suits, reffering to Quatre for any tactical advice he needed. The five were working as one finely tuned unit, no longer grudges held against eachother for sins and wrong-doings long passed.
~End Flashback~
At this memory, so clear yet in his mind, the young Arab scrambled harder to find the pilot underneath the twisted rubble. He never spoke, and his lungs burned with the acrid scent of burned flash, and gasoline, thick, greasy black some rose high into the air, casting the world below into shadow. Finally, a errant ray of sunshine lit upon a few strands of light colored hair. "Thank Allah," the blonde pilot whispered, using his last reserves of strength to pull the battered body from the wreck.
~Flashback~
Heero had just finished giving the other young pilots their instruction, and they were speeding off to fight the last of the Leo suits. But, suddenly, before anyone could react, a sixth Gundam came into play, slashing and fighting it's way through the forray. "Who the hell?" Duo managed to yelled out, before an image came on his screen. A pilot they all knew too well, long blonde hair, an a general mask, Zechs Marquise.
~End Flashback~
Quatre pulled the other man as far from the suit as he could, trying his hardest to wake him up. It didn't take him long to realize it was hopeless, the other man was cold, and dead. A deep slash crossed his abdomen, and other cuts an lasserations marked his smooth flesh. He never allowed himself to cry, merely, clutch at the corpse in vain. "I'm sorry...I'm so very sorry! I should have helped you!" he yelled, pounding the still chest of the older pilot.
From a distance, you could faintly see four men, watching their companion, why did they never help? The answer is simple, they knew their friend needed a moment alone, to say his goodbyes, to his husband, his best friend, Milliardo Peacecraft.
Owari
Well, I hoped you liked that little blurb, it was fun to write, and don't forget the FEEDBACK!!!!
ok, this is NOT a normal pairing, I know that already. In fact, i don't think it has ever been written before. But after this, im returning faithfuly to my 1+2 or 3+4 pairings!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Quatre Winner ran across the bloodied battlefield, his path set for the giant, fallen mobile suit. He collapsed beside the mech, tearing away what he could with his bare hands, his soft skin was scorched by the hot metal, and his fingers bled from small splinters of the gundanium alloy that lodged in the palms of his hands. The cockpit was completely crushed, and small fires were breaking out on the field, he knew he didn't have much time.
~Flashback~
"Come on Trowa, we can get these guys!" the American's voice had said over the comm system, sparking with a light humor. They had been badly outnumbered, but at that time, it had seeme like they would be making a comeback, and pounding the enemy Leo suits into oblivion. Heero was leading the five suits, reffering to Quatre for any tactical advice he needed. The five were working as one finely tuned unit, no longer grudges held against eachother for sins and wrong-doings long passed.
~End Flashback~
At this memory, so clear yet in his mind, the young Arab scrambled harder to find the pilot underneath the twisted rubble. He never spoke, and his lungs burned with the acrid scent of burned flash, and gasoline, thick, greasy black some rose high into the air, casting the world below into shadow. Finally, a errant ray of sunshine lit upon a few strands of light colored hair. "Thank Allah," the blonde pilot whispered, using his last reserves of strength to pull the battered body from the wreck.
~Flashback~
Heero had just finished giving the other young pilots their instruction, and they were speeding off to fight the last of the Leo suits. But, suddenly, before anyone could react, a sixth Gundam came into play, slashing and fighting it's way through the forray. "Who the hell?" Duo managed to yelled out, before an image came on his screen. A pilot they all knew too well, long blonde hair, an a general mask, Zechs Marquise.
~End Flashback~
Quatre pulled the other man as far from the suit as he could, trying his hardest to wake him up. It didn't take him long to realize it was hopeless, the other man was cold, and dead. A deep slash crossed his abdomen, and other cuts an lasserations marked his smooth flesh. He never allowed himself to cry, merely, clutch at the corpse in vain. "I'm sorry...I'm so very sorry! I should have helped you!" he yelled, pounding the still chest of the older pilot.
From a distance, you could faintly see four men, watching their companion, why did they never help? The answer is simple, they knew their friend needed a moment alone, to say his goodbyes, to his husband, his best friend, Milliardo Peacecraft.
Owari
Well, I hoped you liked that little blurb, it was fun to write, and don't forget the FEEDBACK!!!!