Disclaimer

Disclaimer - Gundam Wing and its characters are the property of Sunsrise Setsu and not me. Though I can hope...

AN - This popped into my head when I was watching TV and if I don't follow ideas I lose them. This is a dark, angsty fic and is yaoi. So if you have a problem with yaoi, don't read this!

Warning - Dark, Deathfic, Suicide, Yaoi

"....." - dialogue
.....> - thoughts

I'll Cover You

He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a full night of sleep. Quatre kept bugging him about eating. Said he wasn't eating normally. A man his age should have a healthy appetite. He just pushed him away. He didn't want to. He loved Quatre with all his heart, but Quatre was taking his promise too far.

"Good morning Trowa! How are you?" Quatre's face fell when his love didn't respond, "You had another nightmare again last night. I heard you wake up."

He didn't want to push him away. He just wanted someone to love. Nobody had taught him how to love. He didn't know how to love Quatre. He wanted to, but didn't know how to act, what to say, or what to do. Quatre had told him to just be himself, but how could he have a sense of identity with a past like his own.

"Coffee?" his first word this morning. He didn't look at Quatre. He couldn't, because he knew that if he looked up, he'd be lost in those deep blue eyes. He knew he was pushing Quatre away.

"No, thanks," Quatre said, hiding his hurt in his best optimistic voice. He didn't cover it well, because Trowa heard his voice catch again.

Quatre left to go to work shortly after, leaving Trowa to battle with his inner demons alone. He hated being like this. He wanted Quatre to know how much he loved him. He sat at his desk all morning and afternoon. He hardly heard the door open and Quatre walk up the stairs. It wasn't until almost after 7:00, that he realized he had said one word to his friend all day. One word. Trowa walked downstairs and found Quatre at the table eating dinner.

"Have some dinner! Lemon pepper chicken with orange glazed carrots, your favorite, Trowa," Quatre said cheerfully.

How can he be so cheerful, so nice to me, when I treat him like shit? I have to tell him.> "Thanks, Quatre. I'm sorry I haven't been around today; I had a bad headache," he said.

"That's what I figured, so that's why I made your favorite," Quatre eyes twinkled, but Trowa's thoughts were elsewhere. Why can't I tell him? I have to, but I can't.>

That night, Trowa had a different nightmare. Instead of flashing images of his violent childhood, he had a clear, vivid dream of Quatre fighting mobile dolls, and Quatre dying at the hands of the mobile dolls. Killed by machines. Heartless machines made by heartless people. Then the mobile doll that killed Quatre turned, and it wasn't a mobile doll anymore. It was himself. He, Trowa Barton, was the heartless machine killing Quatre. He woke up drenched in cold sweat. This was getting serious. He'd tell Quatre in the morning.

Trowa's plan didn't work well. By the time he woke up again, Quatre was gone. Trowa sat at the table downstairs waiting. He waited for a long time. At 8:43 PM, he went upstairs, crawled into bed and tried to block images of death, blood, and mobile dolls. He had another dream. Quatre walking down a road. Each path turning off from the road had a name. There was Marriage, Children, Career, and Sickness. This was the Road of Life, and Quatre stopped at the last fork. Death and Love. Quatre picked love, but shadowy smoke enveloped him, swirled around him, and pushed him towards the other fork. When Quatre was well on his way down that way, the shadowy smoke took on the shape of a man in a hooded cloak. The man lowered his hood and Trowa was once again seeing himself. This time he didn't wake. The cloaked figure looked at him and said,

"You see what you are doing to Quatre. Ever since he met you, you've been cold to him, pushing him away. Do you want him to finish the Road of Death? Or show him love in hopes that he'll survive?"

"Everybody has to die sometime," Trowa got defensive.

"Yes, but not everyone has to die alone."

Trowa woke again in cold sweat. No waiting. This time he was to wake Quatre up and tell him. He swung open the door to Quatre's room just to see the young pilot slit his wrists.

"NO! Quatre!" Trowa ran to him but it was too late. Quatre's life was bleeding away. Trowa held Quatre for what seemed like hours and said to him,

"I love you Quatre and no matter what, I'm here. You'll-You'll be ok," Trowas voice broke and tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Everyone has to die sometime, Trowa. I love you too,"

"No one has to die alone. I'm sorry Quatre. If only I hadn't pushed you away if only I'd told you sooner."

Quatre's head slumped and his cold lips parted slightly as he drew his last breath. Trowa gritted his teeth, picked up the razor Quatre had used and repeated the promise made to him so long ago, a promise just days before he had cursed,

"Don't worry Quatre, I'm behind you all the way. I'll cover you."

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So! What'd you think? PLEASE R&R! ~Gothica Angel