There Is A Time And A Place For Everything
By: Flame
The day was truly perfect.
The sun was glowing, a breeze was blowing and the grass was never greener.
But enough scenery, and enough peaceful beauty.
From the direction of the city by the sea, a large explosion of flames and debris shot forth from a large bank of buildings. The streets were a living chaos of people, fire, screaming and blood. The secondary explosion ripped through the complex, flinging more destruction out into the streets, crushing some who were running about below on the streets.
From a large mushroom of fire, a limp figure flew from the fifth floor window, plummeting to the ground.
When the figure landed, it was in a large pile of rubbage that had been waiting for pick-up. Some smoldering debris also landed, setting the compost aflame.
The eyelids flickered, eyes opening slowly as they groaned in pain. It was a young woman who had fallen from the building. Her hair was coming undone from the high pony it had been in, smoke, ash and dirt streaked her entire body. Coughing, she rolled through the flames, out onto the street of utter devastation.
She picked herself up painfully, looking around at the hell on Earth.
She was responsible for it.
With that last realization, she passed out…
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It had been many weeks since the Royale Apartments had burned, along with most of the city by the sea. There were few survivors, most of those killed had been civilians or military officers. The stories of the survivors were dissected intently, for their tales were outlandish.
It was told that a young woman, who had acted alone, used a variety of strong explosives to intentionally cause the deaths of hundreds. The idea was preposterous to the inhabitants of the quaint and normally quiet city by the sea. There was no possible reason that any young woman would want to go and destroy people she didn't even know… Or was there?
As the rumors spread, the instigator of all the trouble was unaware of any of the talk. She had been in a coma for weeks, hooked up to various machines to assist in her survival, a nurse checking on her pain medication hourly, to keep the pain of the burns and internal injuries from affecting her in her sleep.
And as she slept, a group of young men were consistently keeping a silent vigil over her, always keeping one of them with her at all times…
One of them, an American by his look, was always there. He never let his gaze move from her face. He hated to see the bruises and lacerations on her face, but he hated the horrible burn patches that covered the majority of the rest of her body in patches even worse. He felt responsible for her being here, for getting in the mess at the Royale, for being stuck on a machine to keep her alive.
He was the reason she came to Earth in the first place, and he was the reason she went psychotic temporarily.
He had been the one to find her after the explosion…
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From the apartment were he was in hiding with his five close friends, Duo Maxwell, pilot of Gundam Deathscythe, was busy trying to find their female stowaway.
"K'so… Where the hell is she?" he muttered, striding down the hallway and popping his head into the kitchen where Heero Yuy was working on his laptop.
"Yo, Heero," Duo said, plopping down in the chair next to his friend, "Do you know where Flame's gone off to?"
The Japanese pilot made an impatient noise at the back of his throat, "No, I don't know where she is. Although I suggest you allow her time to stew down after what you did to her last night."
Now the American was confused. "Wait, what do you mean 'what I did to her'? What did I do?"
Heero sighed and continued to work without a word.
"He means that you hurt her, without even knowing it, a very rude and inconsiderate way to treat a woman." came the voice of the Shenlong pilot.
Duo turned to face him, his braid whacking Heero's forearm smartly. "Sorry Hee, but Wufei… What do you mean? How did I hurt her?"
"If you don't know, Maxwell, then you'll never find out. Think back on what happened, and it'll come to you. Just don't worry about it, I'm sure she's fine."
Leaving Duo with this, Wufei turned and walked out to the living room, allowing the American to think about what could have caused the disappearance of the young woman from OZ.
Duo frowned, thinking back to the past night, the last time he had seen Flame… They had argued, but it was a silly thing. She wanted to know how he felt about her, be it friend, foe or more. He had jokingly said she was the ugly girl that he would have had gone to far with while drunk. She had shut down, becoming cold and distant then, ignoring the laughs that he shook out, telling him how rude it was, only opening up again when he said that it was a joke…
And then… His brow furrowed, thinking intently… Ah… So that was it, how could he have been so blind? It was what he had told her next that created her disappearing act…
And suddenly, he felt the apartment rumble, as though an earthquake had struck, but they were nowhere near a fault… That left only one possibility…
Flame.
Jumping up from the table, he sprinted out of the apartments, down the stairs, out towards the screaming and crying. He was sweating, legs flying across the streets as a silent mantra ran through his head…
:Please, let her be alive… Be alive… Don't let her be dead… Please, be somewhere else, please…:
With every nearing step, he could make out more and more of the scene. The Royale Apartments were transformed from the haughty empowered dignified buildings to crumbling inferno. There were so many people running and screaming that he almost didn't she her, but then he saw movement near the buildings as someone rolled out from a ball of flames on the ground and into the middle of the street.
Racing over to the figure, whom he had seen fall from the building moments ago, he skidded to a stop as he knelt by her side.
She was badly burned, most of her clothing gone, exposing blackened fleash as well as deep gashes. He carefully turned her over, and looked into the face of the woman he had been searching for…
He held her all the way to the ER…
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