Title: Amethyst Wings
Author: H'seru
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Gundam, or any of it's chars, much to their relief ^_-
Warnings: Mild citrus warning, more towards the fluff end, nothing serious. Shounen ai, angst, blood, violence, mild language, and probably some OOC-ness (Though I'll try and keep to the original char personality)
Rated: PG13
Hidden within the folds of humanity
Black and white do there meet
Life, death; a spiral of similarity
Heart that doth the rhythm beat
Amethyst eyes stared at a dull, white ceiling, a bored expression plastered onto a face too used to smiling at every waking moment whether really happy or not. They traced the hairline fractures that covered the white surface, almost down to counting them.
Duo yawned, grimacing as the small movement brought him pain. His eyes stopped their scrutiny of the ceiling, and wandered around the room for the hundredth time that day. Equally white walls meagerly decorated with almost gruesome pictures of inner disorders greeted his eyes, as well as an assortment of cold metal machines, tubes, and another bed identical to the one he'd inhabited for the past week. His long, chestnut hair was clumsily done up in a braid that'd decided it'd had enough of being bound, and was coming undone. It lay beside him, as prone as Duo himself.
As Duo was the only occupant in the monotonous hospital room, he'd passed through the stages of being restless, to bored out of his mind, and was now currently entering comatose. It was a horrible way to spend what should have been his few days off.
He abhorred having to be still for any amount of time, and the remaining few days until he was released from the ward would be filled with nothing but white walls, nurses able to talk an ear off the dead, and the spasmodic sound of the air compressor in his bed.
Sighing at his fate, his thoughts wandered back to what had brought him there. Duo cursed himself now for getting caught so unawares on a mission that was supposed to have been as routine as brushing his hair. He'd not ended up quite as lucky as other times, but he reflected on the thought that he was still alive after a blast that could have not only killed him, but could have reduced Deathscythe to a pile of charred metal.
All five of them had been sent on a mission to destroy a Land To Space missile silo. Again, routine. Several Aries, and land Taurus suits were there to try and stop them, and he'd laughed at their attempts to foil Shinigami's plans. He'd advanced, Quatre on his left, Wufei and Trowa on his right, and Heero, surging ahead faster than the rest of them, was already isolated in front of them, surrounded by a contingent of Taurus suits.
Intent on helping him, Duo sliced through two suits at once with his beam scythe, and was suddenly enveloped by an enormous blast planted directly under him. Bright flaming light scoured his eyes, and he screamed as the shock wave twisted at both him and Deathscythe. It felt like he'd been plunged into the heart of a fire, as the metal around him superheated in seconds, yet resisted the urge to melt. The explosion rocketed around him, and over the noise, the sound of screeching metal met his bleeding ears as the burned hulk of Deathscythe collapsed backwards. He'd blacked out before it completed it's impact, the coppery taste of blood in his mouth, and so didn't see when the glowing eyed figure of Wing Zero caught Deathscythe's limp metal form.
Upon regaining consciousness, Duo'd found himself covered in bandages, his entire body nothing but a mass of pain, and himself relocated to a small hospital in a city far distant from where the mission had been staged.
Not long after, he'd gotten a call from Quatre. Duo's eyes widened with surprise at the knowledge that Heero'd dropped him off at the hospital, and not left it to one of the others. Then Quatre told him he'd finished the mission first, and that sounded more like the Heero he knew.
Now, Duo lay in the creaky hospital bed for it, almost healed enough to leave. He'd been burned in several places, but not nearly as bad at is had felt at the time. Lacerations, internal bleeding, 3rd degree burns; the doctors said it was a miracle he'd be able to leave in a few days. Anyone else would be in bed for about a month before the doctors would agree to release them, but they had no reason to keep Duo there; he was nearly healed. Just the few stubborn and more debilitating wounds were left, mostly comprised of what had been torn inside his body. He'd stopped coughing up blood on the second day.
His only worry was about the condition of Deathscythe, who'd taken the brunt of the impact. From Quatre's report, half of the circuitry was fried, fused together from the heat, and the external workings were severely damaged. Luckily, the explosion had not penetrated through the Gundanium shielding, so Deathscythe was in pretty good condition, considering. Duo'd be able to fix it up in no time, if he could ever get out of this damn hospital.
A squeak at the door brought his attention back to the now, as one of the nurses entered, carrying a tray. She set it down on the bed side table, and Duo's eyes narrowed fractionally as the syringe on the tray was picked up.
"What the hell is that-"
He began, before the needle was slid, unceremoniously, into his arm, pumping the drug into his blood system. Before he could begin to protest, the white room swam about him, darkening. Vaguely, he heard the nurse saying something about him needing to sleep to recover strength, but he was already too far under to reply as scathingly as he desired to. Damn, but the stuff worked fast, he though as the darkness closed in. By the time the nurse had left, Duo was dead to the world, sleeping beyond the reach of dreams.