Dislclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. So you can't sue me. *sticks out
tongue *
Medicated
A bright light flashed into Duo's eye and murmured, trying to move. The intrusion into his morphine driven world was both unwanted and unwelcome. His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the dim light of his surroundings. The room seemed to dip and sway about him as he pulled his mind from opiate psychosis. He awoke to the smell of cleaners and medicine, the undeniable stench of death.or that of a hospital, that he knew and hated all too well. Slowly, hazily, the world about him came into focus and tears cascaded down his cheeks as realization dawned. He had begged to Shinigami in every form he knew to deliver him from the torment of life and give him death. To let him be with his love. He prayed for it, yearned for it, and now he had tried to achieve i. Duo struggled to move frozen muscles, tensing in pain from the some twelve odd needles torturing his veins.. He was alive, oh such a hateful state when one longed to be departed. He found himself in a hospital of sorts, a safe house, naturally, though he was not safe here. He was attached to the bed and a physician hovered over him, oblivious to his awakening. He was strapped down with the bonds of a madman. Leather straps contained his wrists, (though they were loose, he noticed, to allow for the mountains of gauze covering the raw muscle he had carved into). Straps contained his ankles and neck, another dancing across his chest. He whispered vulgarities as he found this, still disillusioned by his opiate commander. He lurched forward suddenly, fighting his bondage, throwing himself ahead. Alarms screamed as his heart raced and the needles were thrown from his body. The physician struggled to hold him down as he fought, quickly enlisting the aid of a few of his colleagues. Duo fought them all, desperate. Desperate to die. To be with her again. His wounds were reopening and begged silently for death. The physician caught his leg and threw a new needle, a sedative, and slowly Duo's convulsions relaxed. The physician left and Duo glared silently at the small blond figure in the doorway, watching his theatrics. Quatre watched him, hidden in shadow. The braided one asked but one thing of the little Arabian. "Kill me." He pleaded hoarsely. "Let me die." he whispered. Quatre shook his head, biting his lip as tears rolled down his cheeks. "I can't, Duo." He whispered, the resolve being too much and he fled. Duo lay still, tears slipping from his eyes and cascading downward melding with his blood. He closed his eyes and stopped his breath. 'If only to die.' He thought through scarlet tears.
Medicated
A bright light flashed into Duo's eye and murmured, trying to move. The intrusion into his morphine driven world was both unwanted and unwelcome. His eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the dim light of his surroundings. The room seemed to dip and sway about him as he pulled his mind from opiate psychosis. He awoke to the smell of cleaners and medicine, the undeniable stench of death.or that of a hospital, that he knew and hated all too well. Slowly, hazily, the world about him came into focus and tears cascaded down his cheeks as realization dawned. He had begged to Shinigami in every form he knew to deliver him from the torment of life and give him death. To let him be with his love. He prayed for it, yearned for it, and now he had tried to achieve i. Duo struggled to move frozen muscles, tensing in pain from the some twelve odd needles torturing his veins.. He was alive, oh such a hateful state when one longed to be departed. He found himself in a hospital of sorts, a safe house, naturally, though he was not safe here. He was attached to the bed and a physician hovered over him, oblivious to his awakening. He was strapped down with the bonds of a madman. Leather straps contained his wrists, (though they were loose, he noticed, to allow for the mountains of gauze covering the raw muscle he had carved into). Straps contained his ankles and neck, another dancing across his chest. He whispered vulgarities as he found this, still disillusioned by his opiate commander. He lurched forward suddenly, fighting his bondage, throwing himself ahead. Alarms screamed as his heart raced and the needles were thrown from his body. The physician struggled to hold him down as he fought, quickly enlisting the aid of a few of his colleagues. Duo fought them all, desperate. Desperate to die. To be with her again. His wounds were reopening and begged silently for death. The physician caught his leg and threw a new needle, a sedative, and slowly Duo's convulsions relaxed. The physician left and Duo glared silently at the small blond figure in the doorway, watching his theatrics. Quatre watched him, hidden in shadow. The braided one asked but one thing of the little Arabian. "Kill me." He pleaded hoarsely. "Let me die." he whispered. Quatre shook his head, biting his lip as tears rolled down his cheeks. "I can't, Duo." He whispered, the resolve being too much and he fled. Duo lay still, tears slipping from his eyes and cascading downward melding with his blood. He closed his eyes and stopped his breath. 'If only to die.' He thought through scarlet tears.