Chapter 2
Two hours later, the forest lay in ruins: pieces of mobile suits resting on the scorched dirt, patches of trees standing in horrified huddles, and wounded soldiers slowly making their ways back to base, or for most, to their graves.
------------------------------------------------
Now far away from the scenic massacre, four soldiers waited as patiently as possible for any news concerning their friend. As the night rolled on and the pilots had been assured, repeatedly, that their comrade was stabilized, they began to go their own ways: Wufei to bed, but most likely not to sleep; Trowa to the hangar, but most likely not to get any repairs done; Heero to his laptop, but most likely not to type any mission reports.
Yet Quatre remained.
"Excuse me, Doctor," he said, approaching the woman wearing a long white jacket who hovered over Duo's bed, checking his stats.
"Nurse," she muttered, scribbling numbers on a clip board.
"Pardon?"
Finished scribbling, she wheeled around, her blonde curls energetically following a moment behind. "I'm a nurse, not a doctor." Quatre blushed; before, when she had entered the room, he had been quite distracted by the events of the evening to even notice that she was a young woman.
"I apologize," he smiled as best as he could, despite his embarrassment and the occasional throbs of pain at the back of his head. "Would it be alright if I stayed for awhile longer? I know the facility is settling down for the night, but I would . . ."
"Yes, its fine," the nurse broke in, "as long as you take a bed too." Quatre blinked at the woman as she declared her negotiation demand. She shut her eyes and rearranged her thin-framed eye glasses. "Yes, I should think that with an injury to the head as you have received, a night in a hospital bed would do nicely."
Again, Quatre blinked. Maybe his head injury was worse than he thought; he couldn't remember telling anyone in the bustle over Duo's safety about his wound. Nonetheless, he agreed and allowed the gentle handed nurse to properly dress his sore and then lead him to his bed next to Duo's.
Lying awake, blankly staring at the ceiling, Quatre decided to imprint this day into his memories forever. He twisted his head to gaze at the sleeping Duo. Quatre had almost forgotten what he was fighting for, but the near-death of his friend had illuminated the answer for him.
*How could I continue my life of death-dealing if Duo, or any of my fellow Gundam pilots, died while I watched from the cock pit of Sandrock?*
He then thought of the kind, young nurse. *The world also needs caring people like her. How horrible the battle could have grown if it had spread into the city. So many innocent people have already met the unexpected blaze of death when it was not necessary. But what death is necessary?*
Being the sensitive young solider of only sixteen years old(1), Quatre could not control the paradox of his life. Death surrounded him, *engulfed* him, and yet his caring nature stood sturdy and true. But this did not aid to coping with the death, or his part in it.
Finally, after settling on his side, to free his wound from the pillow and to watch Duo, making sure that he still breathed, Quatre slowly fell asleep.
------------------------------------------
His head pulsing ferociously, Quatre rolled over on the narrow hospital bed, unconsciously attempting to shun the loud noises that threatened to wake him. For a few moments he thought that he may be able to sleep further, yet more shrill voices and clattering movements forced him into consciousness.
Quatre opened his eyes slowly, being blinded by the awesomely bright lights. Raising his arm to block the harsh hospital lights, he looked toward the obnoxious din that woke him. Surrounding the nearest bed, three figures donning long white coats spoke quickly at each other, handing passing around medical tools and little gizmos Quatre could only guess the uses for.
Suddenly he realized what the scene in front of his eyes was showing.
"Duo!" Quatre started, swiftly leaping off of his bed. He stood for a millisecond before his eyes clouded, his head suffered a strong beat of pain, and he somehow lost his balance. A wrinkled nurse gasped as he collapsed backwards onto the cold tile floor, his back contacting with the chilled metal bars that supported the hospital bed.
"Oh my dear," the aged nurse sighed as she helped Quatre onto his feet. "You should stay in the bed Mister Winner; your head looks pretty bad," she added, checking his bandages. "Who dressed this? Its not in our records that you suffered any injuries or that you were taking a bed for the night . . ."
But Quatre was unconcerned with the nurse's advice and questions. Attempting to view any part of his friend, who still had the nervous attention of the other two hospital personnel, he leaned and stretched over the nurse's shoulder. Again, Quatre attempted to stand, but the nurse, as wrinkled and old as she seemed, pushed him unto the bed without any trouble.
"No, no, sit down," she commanded in a scolding voice."
"But, Duo . . ." he demanded, "Is he alright?" As he asked this, his eyes blurred and a overpowering dizziness came over him. The nurse easily forced his shoulders onto the hard mattress and lifted his legs in place. Without giving any answer to his question or warning before doing so, the nurse extracted a syringe from her coat pocket and shot Quatre with its contents.
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(1) - I guess this is a "what if" world: what if the war had not ended so soon and continued far into the future, so the G-pilots were older at this time. . . plus, I wanted them older, so I may have just cheated ^__^
[[[cringe! man I hate needles! Well, thank you to all that reviewed my first chapter, and I hope you all enjoyed this one too! I think I know what I'm gonna do, so wait a little longer and the third chapter will be up soon and its gonna be interesting. I'll tell you what the heck happened to Duo and it is gonna be so fun! I'm goin to write more right now! (R+R please!)]]]
Two hours later, the forest lay in ruins: pieces of mobile suits resting on the scorched dirt, patches of trees standing in horrified huddles, and wounded soldiers slowly making their ways back to base, or for most, to their graves.
------------------------------------------------
Now far away from the scenic massacre, four soldiers waited as patiently as possible for any news concerning their friend. As the night rolled on and the pilots had been assured, repeatedly, that their comrade was stabilized, they began to go their own ways: Wufei to bed, but most likely not to sleep; Trowa to the hangar, but most likely not to get any repairs done; Heero to his laptop, but most likely not to type any mission reports.
Yet Quatre remained.
"Excuse me, Doctor," he said, approaching the woman wearing a long white jacket who hovered over Duo's bed, checking his stats.
"Nurse," she muttered, scribbling numbers on a clip board.
"Pardon?"
Finished scribbling, she wheeled around, her blonde curls energetically following a moment behind. "I'm a nurse, not a doctor." Quatre blushed; before, when she had entered the room, he had been quite distracted by the events of the evening to even notice that she was a young woman.
"I apologize," he smiled as best as he could, despite his embarrassment and the occasional throbs of pain at the back of his head. "Would it be alright if I stayed for awhile longer? I know the facility is settling down for the night, but I would . . ."
"Yes, its fine," the nurse broke in, "as long as you take a bed too." Quatre blinked at the woman as she declared her negotiation demand. She shut her eyes and rearranged her thin-framed eye glasses. "Yes, I should think that with an injury to the head as you have received, a night in a hospital bed would do nicely."
Again, Quatre blinked. Maybe his head injury was worse than he thought; he couldn't remember telling anyone in the bustle over Duo's safety about his wound. Nonetheless, he agreed and allowed the gentle handed nurse to properly dress his sore and then lead him to his bed next to Duo's.
Lying awake, blankly staring at the ceiling, Quatre decided to imprint this day into his memories forever. He twisted his head to gaze at the sleeping Duo. Quatre had almost forgotten what he was fighting for, but the near-death of his friend had illuminated the answer for him.
*How could I continue my life of death-dealing if Duo, or any of my fellow Gundam pilots, died while I watched from the cock pit of Sandrock?*
He then thought of the kind, young nurse. *The world also needs caring people like her. How horrible the battle could have grown if it had spread into the city. So many innocent people have already met the unexpected blaze of death when it was not necessary. But what death is necessary?*
Being the sensitive young solider of only sixteen years old(1), Quatre could not control the paradox of his life. Death surrounded him, *engulfed* him, and yet his caring nature stood sturdy and true. But this did not aid to coping with the death, or his part in it.
Finally, after settling on his side, to free his wound from the pillow and to watch Duo, making sure that he still breathed, Quatre slowly fell asleep.
------------------------------------------
His head pulsing ferociously, Quatre rolled over on the narrow hospital bed, unconsciously attempting to shun the loud noises that threatened to wake him. For a few moments he thought that he may be able to sleep further, yet more shrill voices and clattering movements forced him into consciousness.
Quatre opened his eyes slowly, being blinded by the awesomely bright lights. Raising his arm to block the harsh hospital lights, he looked toward the obnoxious din that woke him. Surrounding the nearest bed, three figures donning long white coats spoke quickly at each other, handing passing around medical tools and little gizmos Quatre could only guess the uses for.
Suddenly he realized what the scene in front of his eyes was showing.
"Duo!" Quatre started, swiftly leaping off of his bed. He stood for a millisecond before his eyes clouded, his head suffered a strong beat of pain, and he somehow lost his balance. A wrinkled nurse gasped as he collapsed backwards onto the cold tile floor, his back contacting with the chilled metal bars that supported the hospital bed.
"Oh my dear," the aged nurse sighed as she helped Quatre onto his feet. "You should stay in the bed Mister Winner; your head looks pretty bad," she added, checking his bandages. "Who dressed this? Its not in our records that you suffered any injuries or that you were taking a bed for the night . . ."
But Quatre was unconcerned with the nurse's advice and questions. Attempting to view any part of his friend, who still had the nervous attention of the other two hospital personnel, he leaned and stretched over the nurse's shoulder. Again, Quatre attempted to stand, but the nurse, as wrinkled and old as she seemed, pushed him unto the bed without any trouble.
"No, no, sit down," she commanded in a scolding voice."
"But, Duo . . ." he demanded, "Is he alright?" As he asked this, his eyes blurred and a overpowering dizziness came over him. The nurse easily forced his shoulders onto the hard mattress and lifted his legs in place. Without giving any answer to his question or warning before doing so, the nurse extracted a syringe from her coat pocket and shot Quatre with its contents.
--------------------------------------------------
(1) - I guess this is a "what if" world: what if the war had not ended so soon and continued far into the future, so the G-pilots were older at this time. . . plus, I wanted them older, so I may have just cheated ^__^
[[[cringe! man I hate needles! Well, thank you to all that reviewed my first chapter, and I hope you all enjoyed this one too! I think I know what I'm gonna do, so wait a little longer and the third chapter will be up soon and its gonna be interesting. I'll tell you what the heck happened to Duo and it is gonna be so fun! I'm goin to write more right now! (R+R please!)]]]
