"Quatre Raberba Winner is Dead"
by Hell's Fire
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or whatever, so don't sue me.
Please note, this is a pitiful attempt at a fic (and it's my first), so review, don't review, I don't care.
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Quatre stared at the scenery that rushed past him. "Cripes," he thought as he shifted his weight to make himself comfortable on the hard train seat. "Why did I do it? What possessed me to do it?" The blonde put his head in his hands and began sobbing.
*flashback*
"Kill me." The boy looked him straight in the eye, his face deadpan serious. "Now." Quatre shook his head. "I can't, I'm sorry." Quatre broke the contact and instead looked at the floor. The other boy sighed and stepped closer, dropping the gun on the ground before Quatre's feet. "Either you kill me, or I kill me," he said coldly. Quatre looked up. "I've killed enough people- I don't need your blood on my hands," he said before turning away. He was stopped by a strong arm. The owner of the arm manuvered himself in front of Quatre, blocking his escape. He leaned forward, his forest green eyes locked on the deep blue ones that belonged to Quatre. "Quatre, I'd do anything that you asked, even if it meant risking my own life. Why can't you do that for me? Why can't you kill me?" Quatre knelt on the ground, stroking the gun with his index finger. His grip tightened on it, and tears formed in his eyes. He stood till he was eye-level with the Heavyarms pilot. "Trowa, I can't do it because I love you," he told him shyly. His eyes widened in shock as he realized what he had just told him. "And I'll do anything for you at all- in this case, kill you." Quatre raised the gun and fired. Trowa's eyes bugged out, a look of horror on his face. Blood sprayed the wall behind him in an unforgiving shade of maroon. "Trowa!" Quatre cried, rushing to his side. "I love you," Trowa mouthed as his horror-filled face washed over with a look of peace, and his green eyes closed for the final time. "I love you too," Quatre said tearfully. "With all my heart."
*end flashback*
He lifted his head and looked back out the window again. "My name is no longer Quatre Raberba Winner," he told himself silently. "It is now Trowa Barton." He held back his tears as he got off the train with his backpack. "I will assume Trowa's identity and pick up where he left off. Quatre Raberba Winner is dead."
(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)
Okay, that sucked. Review, if you want to, I don't care.
by Hell's Fire
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or whatever, so don't sue me.
Please note, this is a pitiful attempt at a fic (and it's my first), so review, don't review, I don't care.
(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)
Quatre stared at the scenery that rushed past him. "Cripes," he thought as he shifted his weight to make himself comfortable on the hard train seat. "Why did I do it? What possessed me to do it?" The blonde put his head in his hands and began sobbing.
*flashback*
"Kill me." The boy looked him straight in the eye, his face deadpan serious. "Now." Quatre shook his head. "I can't, I'm sorry." Quatre broke the contact and instead looked at the floor. The other boy sighed and stepped closer, dropping the gun on the ground before Quatre's feet. "Either you kill me, or I kill me," he said coldly. Quatre looked up. "I've killed enough people- I don't need your blood on my hands," he said before turning away. He was stopped by a strong arm. The owner of the arm manuvered himself in front of Quatre, blocking his escape. He leaned forward, his forest green eyes locked on the deep blue ones that belonged to Quatre. "Quatre, I'd do anything that you asked, even if it meant risking my own life. Why can't you do that for me? Why can't you kill me?" Quatre knelt on the ground, stroking the gun with his index finger. His grip tightened on it, and tears formed in his eyes. He stood till he was eye-level with the Heavyarms pilot. "Trowa, I can't do it because I love you," he told him shyly. His eyes widened in shock as he realized what he had just told him. "And I'll do anything for you at all- in this case, kill you." Quatre raised the gun and fired. Trowa's eyes bugged out, a look of horror on his face. Blood sprayed the wall behind him in an unforgiving shade of maroon. "Trowa!" Quatre cried, rushing to his side. "I love you," Trowa mouthed as his horror-filled face washed over with a look of peace, and his green eyes closed for the final time. "I love you too," Quatre said tearfully. "With all my heart."
*end flashback*
He lifted his head and looked back out the window again. "My name is no longer Quatre Raberba Winner," he told himself silently. "It is now Trowa Barton." He held back his tears as he got off the train with his backpack. "I will assume Trowa's identity and pick up where he left off. Quatre Raberba Winner is dead."
(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)
Okay, that sucked. Review, if you want to, I don't care.