Disclaimer: I don't own anything, characters especially, from Gundam Wing (much as I want to); they belong to Sunrise and Sotsu and its creators, so don't sue me. You wouldn't get anything for it, anyway. The only things I own from this fanfic are the storyline/plot and the ideas, some character designing, and of course my own "voice." [Don't take those from me! :|]
Note: Shounen-ai – if not in this chapter, then certainly in later ones. Read on only if you don't have a problem with this! If you don't know what shounen-ai is, don't read this until you've figured it out. For those of you who do know, 1+2, 3+4, 5+Merian are planned as of now.
Note II: Blood and…uh…"not cool" things going on in this section. Be warned.
Wasureta omoide no himitsu (The Secrets of Forgotten Memories)
Written by Arkenjil
[This section completed November 20, 2001.]
Chapter 0 - Prologue
"C'mon! Keep up! You've got to!"
"I- I'm trying to, but—" Duo's reply was cut short as he suddenly slipped down a muddy bank. Solo quickly scrambled after him, skidding and sliding the whole way, and ended up with one foot in a deep mud puddle and his younger brother in his arms.
"Damned rain," Solo muttered. To Duo, he asked, "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," breathed Duo, but he turned his head aside and coughed violently into his free hand. It wracked his small frame from head to toe.
Solo swore under his breath and struggled up out of the puddle. "You don't sound all right to me." He pushed his dripping bangs aside before grasping Duo's hand and peering at it in the dim light.
"Maa, Solo, there's no blood from my coughing. It didn't get to my lungs." Duo squirmed in Solo's arms, trying to make his brother put him down. Solo reluctantly complied. "Anyway, we've got to keep moving!"
Solo frowned at Duo, and he finally gave a curt, crisp nod. "Let's go."
Keeping a hand over his stomach where the blood was slowly staining his clothes red, Duo struggled along after his brother, keeping an eye on Solo's ponytail. In the heavy rain, he couldn't see where he was going, much less his surroundings. Solo, however, knew where he was going – or how to get through the dense forest, at least. He was a few years older than Duo, and he actually remembered life before the Lab.
Solo glanced back now and then to make sure Duo was keeping up all right, oftentimes holding aside low bush branches so that Duo could pass without getting slapped in the head by them. Duo's face was beginning to look a little white – he was too small of a child to be losing that much blood – but his left hand retained a firm grip on a small vial that glowed a faint green in the murkiness of the rainy night.
It was what was in that vial, Solo knew, that all of them had escaped from that night. In planning their flight, no one thought of the vial – no one, that is, but Duo. He was the youngest one of all of them there, and he'd often hear the scientists talking about the genetic material in the vial when they thought he was drugged and out of it. Those scientists, it seemed, wanted to put whatever it was that glowed green in there into the children, making the children carriers or "cultures" for the material. Where it came from, Solo didn't know, but he had a gut feeling that he didn't want to know.
He suddenly skidded to a halt. Surrounded by the torrent of the pouring rain, he hadn't noticed the sound of the river that loomed dark and wide before him now. Duo eeped and tried to slow down; he ended up running into Solo. His brother stared miserably at the river, inundated by the heavy rains. The current ran deep and swift and dangerous under such weather. There was no chance of crossing.
"Not here, anyway," Solo muttered, glancing both upstream and downstream.
"What?" Duo asked, panting slightly.
Solo gave him a look, carefully assessing Duo's condition. "You stay here," he said finally. "I'm going to go see if we can cross anywhere." He turned back to the river, glanced both ways, and started heading upstream. "Oh." Solo turned, pushing his hair out of the way and wiping the rain off his face. "See if you can't do anything with that vial, will you?"
Duo gave him a thumbs-up and Solo was off at a sprint. He sank down to the muddy ground, keeping his hand over the gash on his stomach. It hurt, but getting away and keeping the vial away from them was the most important thing right now.
His braid was a heavy wet rope on his back. The rain streamed down his face and drenched him from head to toe. His wound throbbed painfully; Duo pushed his hand more against his stomach to apply more pressure and-
-ugh. Did that just go in? Not a good sign.
And then he found himself staring at the vial in his other hand, an idea forming in his mind. It was a good idea – they'd never dream of looking for it there – but…
Ow.
Duo frowned. No one had been able to think of a good hiding place for the vial. And this was it. He'd either have to make sure he wasn't caught – the chances of which were slim right now, considering his condition – or he'd have to hide it where they wouldn't be able to find it.
Well…a little bit of pain and a lot of pain was still pain, right?
He gritted his teeth. Drastic times call for drastic measures. Creeping over to the river, Duo dipped to vial in to clean it and his hands as much as he could. If he'd learned anything from his time in the Lab, it was that keeping things sanitary was the best way to stay alive.
Duo took a deep breath, looking at the vial. Here goes nothing…and if I don't do this, there goes everything. Then he grasped the vial – and pushed.
A sharp gasp exited his mouth as he forced the small vial deeper into his abdomen. It was a far cry from being the most comfortable of experiences, but necessity decreed the endurance of physical pain – and pain it was. Blood spilled out onto his hands as he pressed. Duo desperately hoped that he wasn't damaging any major organs.
Finally, it was in. Duo slumped forward on the muddy ground. When I heal – if I live through this – it should heal over the vial. He felt suddenly dizzy – from the loss of blood or apprehension or something else, he didn't know. He wondered detachedly where Solo was and if he'd found that bridge or not.
Then he realized, with a start, that he was hearing Solo's voice. "Duo! Get up!"
Duo struggled up. At a distance he could barely make out the white of Solo's clothes. Solo was running toward him. From behind him, Duo could hear the echoes of gunshots.
Gunshots!
They must've found him! Duo's mind cried. Forgetting the pain momentarily, Duo motioned quickly for Solo to run faster. Solo drew nearer, and then abruptly fell.
Duo cried out and dashed forward to kneel next to his brother. "Solo!" There was a hole in Solo's back – he'd been shot. Duo looked up. He had to make a decision. There was no way two injured boys could outrun a group of men and their dogs. They'd either have to surrender or jump.
The braided boy looked once at the swollen river, gathered Solo up in his arms, and jumped in.
*-*-*
The dogs couldn't catch a scent in the downpour, footsteps didn't hold for any longer than ten seconds, and any sounds the kids might have made where drowned out in the pounding of the incessant rain.
"Keep on moving!" shouted the team leader. The dogs, catching or imagining that they caught a scent, took off into the trees. The men quickly followed.
No one spared a backward glance at the river, where two brown-haired boys floated unconsciously downriver. They didn't think that children would be driven or have the courage to do such an act.
They were mistaken.
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