Note: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did there would be pairing hints such as the one in this story! 1+2+1, 3+4+3, possible 5+S will be the ultimate couples, but for now . . . just hints ^_^ Enjoy!
"Yup," Duo grunted in pain. "This is definitely not good."
The pilot of Deathscythe writhed in agony as the heavy metal alloy crushed his entire body. One little mistake!' One missed calculation had landed him in major shit. That is the last time I'll do that again. Man, how stupid am I, thinking I could slip out of the entire battle unscathed? Damn the Oz confederation, cheap bastards. Their mobile suits are so inferior! How did they ever get the idea that these fucked up scraps of metal could stand a chance against gundams?'
He struggled, wriggling his body, shying away from the tiny alloy prison. Dried blood caked his chestnut bangs even as fresh crimson liquid trickled from his head injury.
"What to do," Duo contemplated nervously. His lack of movement was slowly but surely driving him insane. His muscles twitched, motions getting more and more difficult to control, but he forced himself to lie still in the contraption. "Isn't this ironic? My only means of escape became the only reason I can't get away," Duo muttered, eyeing the broken monitor murderously. "Dammit!" he growled as metal jabbed into his pale flesh.
Images of the night's events replayed in loops in Duo's mind. He was being held prisoner in a large OZ facility after being captured in a mission. Chaos, all Hell was unleashed, echoing within those walls when the first shot made its mark. He had no idea who it was, but someone was attacking the place. He also did know that the rebel piloted a similar mobile suit to his own. Thankful for the distraction, Duo had formulated a plan to escape.
A blast of a beam cannon shook the walls and metal bars in Duo's tiny prison. As a result, the cell almost completely collapsed. He managed to evade the tumbling plaster and an assortment of falling objects and forced his way to a broken window. That was when the prisoner had caught sight of the massive machine – and the pilot's amazing skills. He smirked in silent thanks. The confusion further worked his motive. People had failed to recognize the young soldier and allow him access to a vacant Aries. Duo had hoped to escape the chaotic attack, but once again Fate had other ideas.
The damn pilot had taken a shot in Duo's direction almost immediately after he was air-born, sending his suit plummeting to the ground. As if it weren't enough, the asshole had pushed him off a cliff as well. Now he was lying on his back, defeated in a jumble of limbs and hair, trapped by the mobile suit. How am I suppose to get out of this one?' His mind turned desperately for answers.
Narrowing eyes jumped with startling speed at his hatch. The sound of quiet clicks vibrated in his eardrums. Suddenly it flew open, revealing a Japanese soldier in its wake. Shadows laced his features but failed to hide a pair of intensely blue eyes. Duo grinned weakly, "Uh . . . hi?"
The soldier heeded no response to the braided boy except a gun pointed directly at Duo's temple. Somehow he knew that the stranger would not miss his target. "Get out," the command was completely spoken in monotone.
Duo couldn't help but shivered slightly at the danger etched in his expression, his voice. "Gee, if I could don't you think I would have done it by now?" sarcasm thickly laced his voice as Duo raised his eyebrows.
Again there was no response, but he crawled halfway into the cockpit and twisted the metal contraption, freeing Duo. Stunned Duo gingerly climbed out of the hatch. He looked up at his savior. Shadows no longer darkened his face in the light of the full moon. Prussian blue eyes were focused on Duo, glacier and unfeeling. He released a sharp intake of air; the eyes were even bluer now. Anyone could almost drown in those dark pools. Dark brown hair was messily spiked, framing his face. Taut muscles tensed in his body beneath flawless, tan skin.
Every fiber in his being screamed in shock of how young the soldier had to be. Yet one look into those eyes and doubt began to rise. They were too harsh for a teen-aged boy, fourteen or fifteen as a good estimate, almost too cold to even be human.
"Who are you?" Duo managed to choke out. He had intended it to sound mildly rude and somewhat offended, but instead it came out as a curious question.
"You are in no position to ask questions," the Japanese youth responded curtly. Callused fingers grasped his thick, chestnut braid and yanked the boy to follow him.
"Ow! Hey, watch it!" Duo shot the other a lethal glare. "Why did you open my hatch anyway?"
The words froze in his throat as he scanned the battlefield. It was left completely barren, no trace of human existence . . . save the stench of charred human flesh and smoke that hung thickly in the air. He was the only survivor. Painful flashbacks played in his brain – the massacre of the Maxwell Church. It held that same feeling of death and destruction.
Here he was the lone survivor, too. Ever since he first landed on Earth, he pushed all those memories behind him, but the striking similarities between then and now crumbled those walls. Emotions he thought were dead crashed against his conscious mind with the shock of ice torrents. They deserved to die here,' he decided numbly. They deserved this destruction.' Never once did he walk through the still scorching battlefield after he completed a mission. Always he would just fly out of sight, back to his safehouse without a second thought. It was a different feeling, bearing even heavier on his guilt. Is it like this every time I fight?'
Snapping back to reality, he felt a firm squeeze on his arm. Frowning, he felt his feet ache and realized the shocking change of surroundings. How long have we been walking?' He found himself being hurled through a door. Stumbling onto the carpeted floor, he blinked and looked at where he was. It was a simple, generally unfurnished home besides a few chairs, a bed, and other necessary appliances.
"Shit," he groaned, wincing, as he felt a fractured rib cut into his abdomen.
"Who are you?" the stranger inquired.
Those eyes peered at him intensely for any indication of what he was feeling, what whirred inside his mind. He could have spat out another sarcastic and rude remark, but for some odd reason, he felt compelled to do otherwise. So, he settled for a more simple response. "I'm — a prisoner." It wasn't exactly a lie . . .
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There goes the beginning of something. Anyway tell me if you want me to continue. I will love it if you give me a review! Questions, comments, suggestions are definitely welcome. Anyway got to go so ciao!
