Warnings: eventual 1x2, and future torture
Disclaimers: Not mine, never will be
Reviews are strongly encouraged. This was my first fic ever so ANY kind over review flame or rave would be most welcomed. And please let me know if I should continue with this or if I should trash it and try another.
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Prolog:
Lonely. It was always lonely. Even though I lived with the other pilots I didn't know them, and they didn't know me. Sure I was the inhumane bastard, the coldhearted killer, the emotionless psycho. But was I really? To everyone else I was a mystery, defined only by my actions, not by my character. Duo was the only one who tried to get to know me, but he used charm and humor. Two things I don't relate well with. I always thought I'd get along the best with Trowa. He was just like me, or so it seemed. But then I saw it. The look in his eyes when he was with the lions. He loved them. He loved that life. He belonged there. I belong no where. After the war I have nothing. I'll disappear, fade into nothingness. No one will miss me, because no one knew me. I won't like long after the war. A lost cause without hope, what chance to I have. I'll probably become a drunk and druggie. End up overdosing or crashing 'cause I was too drunk to realize what I was doing.
Course, that's what I had thought, until the day I found myself caught in an Oz prison with no chance of escape.
Disclaimers: Not mine, never will be
Reviews are strongly encouraged. This was my first fic ever so ANY kind over review flame or rave would be most welcomed. And please let me know if I should continue with this or if I should trash it and try another.
--------------------------
Prolog:
Lonely. It was always lonely. Even though I lived with the other pilots I didn't know them, and they didn't know me. Sure I was the inhumane bastard, the coldhearted killer, the emotionless psycho. But was I really? To everyone else I was a mystery, defined only by my actions, not by my character. Duo was the only one who tried to get to know me, but he used charm and humor. Two things I don't relate well with. I always thought I'd get along the best with Trowa. He was just like me, or so it seemed. But then I saw it. The look in his eyes when he was with the lions. He loved them. He loved that life. He belonged there. I belong no where. After the war I have nothing. I'll disappear, fade into nothingness. No one will miss me, because no one knew me. I won't like long after the war. A lost cause without hope, what chance to I have. I'll probably become a drunk and druggie. End up overdosing or crashing 'cause I was too drunk to realize what I was doing.
Course, that's what I had thought, until the day I found myself caught in an Oz prison with no chance of escape.