Chapter 01 - Duo's Terrible Injury
"Was that out of character or what?"
***
"Are we there yet?" a certain braided wonder boy asked for the umpteenth time in five minutes.
"Maxwell, if I have to hear you ask that question one more time-" the arrogant Chinese man sitting across from him in the van threatened before being interrupted by a cold glare from the owner of a mop of dark brown, unruly hair and a pair of deep blue eyes.
"Would you keep it down back there?" he requested sternly from the passenger seat up front.
Another teen-with bright emerald eyes and a large amount of hair brushed over one eye-silently drove the vehicle.
The owner of brilliant sea foam eyes and golden hair sighed from his seat next to the tempered Asian and across from the jovial American. The braided American's name was Duo, and the others in respect to their appearance were named Wufei, Heero, Trowa, and Quatre.
Duo sighed and leaned back as best he could on the uncomfortable, hard bench that he sat on. "Alright, whatever. Just trying to have a little fun." Wufei was on the verge of firing a seething remark in Duo's direction, but decided wisely against it after catching Heero Yuy's death glare in the rear view mirror.
Quatre looked away from the scene, however entertaining it was on their excruciatingly long drive. He could understand why Duo Maxwell would be so antsy after so many uneventful hours on the road, even to the point of his shifting constantly in the seat. Squirming into a new position, Duo finally drew another remark from Wufei. "Just pick one spot, Maxwell, and sit in it. It's not that difficult."
"I can't help it, Wu-man! This is really uncomfortable." Duo whined.
Wufei scoffed at the prospect while the ever-sympathetic Quatre sighed again. "Please, let's just put up with this until our rendezvous with Howard at the place he found for our Gundams. It's a miracle we're all still here in one piece after our last mission, so can we focus on that instead of these minor annoyances?" He begged the others.
"Speaking of our last mission, what is wrong with you lately, Maxwell? Even with the obvious repairs your Gundam needs, your fights have been inexcusably weak. They're sloppy; we've had to save you from more near disasters than you've caused in the kitchen since I've met you!" Wufei yelled angrily.
For once, no witty comeback was flung at the irate China man. Instead Duo replied quietly, "Don't bring it up. I don't know what the problem is, and these seats are really uncomfortable."
To three of the Gundam pilots, that series of statements was an unrelated, typical, confusing wandering of their humorous comrade's mind, but the perceptive Quatre seemed to be the only one to catch a relation. He looked toward his friend questioningly, but found Duo's gaze unfocused and directed elsewhere.
The van slowed to a stop and Trowa shut off the engine of the old van, the smell of fuel and exhaust wafting up from it. "We're here." The quiet man told the others. Doors were opened and the boys were free to crawl out. Quick looks around plainly told them that Howard and crew were absent from the enclosure.
"It looks like we'll be doing our own Gundam repairs." Trowa concluded, checking the boarded up warehouse and finding their machines present as promised.
Duo was the only one to groan at this prospect. With his profession in both salvage and mechanics, nothing but laziness could explain his reaction for his comrades. He caught a disapproving look from all four, then lowered his head and dejectedly entered the building.
***
Later that night, Duo had been left to his Gundam's repairs in the dust-perfumed warehouse while the others went to work gathering and packing their few possessions for transport during tomorrow's mission. He sat on the cold concrete floor, tightening a bolt low on Deathscythe's outstretched leg. His repairs had taken far longer than those of the other Gundams had, but all that remained for him were some minor electrical adjustments.
Duo paused for a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow, then returned to tightening Deathscythe's bolts. His teeth were clenched in something curiously other than the concentration on his work and his face was vacant of his trademarked impish grin. The back of Duo's tee shirt was stained with reddish brown blotches of some glimmering liquid, probably one of his trade's. Several slow, soft taps on the stone floor announced Wufei's long stride approaching from one end of the huge room. Of course, the warehouse wasn't exactly spacious anymore with all five newly repaired Gundams sitting upright. In fact, the only bits of walking space left were the three-foot spaces between each wall and the legs of the Gundams. With his work, Duo blocked the way that Wufei was now walking down.
On any other day, what followed wouldn't have provoked much of a negative reaction from the lively youth. As Wufei walked past he bumped into Duo's back unintentionally, causing Duo to cringe and drop his wrench, the wrench hitting the ground with a metallic clang. He shot a scorching glare at Wufei, thinking that his Chinese comrade inflicted the spike of pain he had experienced. Wufei, who had turned to look at the sound of the falling tool, caught sight of the entire scene as it unfolded. At a loss for words for the apparent outrageousness of Duo's reaction to the brief and gentle physical contact, Wufei chose instead a common response of his own,. "Weakness, Maxwell. How did you ever become a pilot?" He turned and continued walking.
Duo clenched his teeth, angry that Wufei seemed to have done that on purpose, then without thinking he hurled his wrench though the air, aiming for the back of Wufei's head. He missed badly in the haze of his anger, the cause of which remained unexplained. The wrench skittered to a stop at the end of the makeshift hallway, drawing an additional smirk from Wufei.
As the irate Chinese teen disappeared around the corner, Duo was left alone to nurse his thinning patience. Any number of small, stacking details could be used to explain his positively un-Duo-ish mood of late, but perhaps the majority of the blame could be placed on upon the grievous amount of pain any sort of pressure inflicted on his back recently. Sure, he should see a doctor about it or at least let his teammates know (and Duo was in the habit of complaining about the most trivial things just to fill the silence), but the salvage specialist felt absolutely embarrassed over the whole ordeal. Besides, he had come to convince himself that in order for the five Gundams to triumph, there needed to be five; meaning that being out of commission with anything less than life threatening was out of the question. Duo wasn't exactly sure when this notion came to him, but when he thought about it, both Heero and Wufei had to have provoked it with their constant insistence upon living out such suicidal mantras.
Finding difficulty concentrating due to the irritation both his shirt and braid were causing, Duo removed the former and repositioned the latter, placing his wet shirt near his toolbox and his braid down his bare, war-scarred chest. He had received many of those scars while living on the streets and could identify any one of them to the day, place, time, and event. However, the majority came to him during the war, and it seemed to him that every day he discovered a new one. Searching his toolbox for the wrench he needed amongst positively 20th century tools, he suddenly remembered that he had been using the desired tool only moments before, and had thrown it across the room.
Duo groaned in frustration then massaged a temple with one hand, bracing his kneeling form with the other. He sighed, mumbling, "This really isn't turning out to be my day"
A softer, quicker stride than Wufei's approached Duo from the direction of the hallway. As the steps passed behind him, they suddenly came to a halt and Quatre's high tones called out in surprise, "By Allah, Duo! Your back!"
Duo sighed, "I never went anywhere."
"No," Quatre clarified, "your back! Duo, come with me; that needs medical attention!"
"Leave me alone, Quatre. I'm not in the mood." Duo snapped.
Quatre blinked in surprise. "Duo Duo, that really needs looking after. Please, come with me." He pleaded.
Duo stood, grasping the side of his Gundam to ease the difficulty and turned to face the cherubic youth. "Look, the only thing I'm getting up for is to go get my wrench so I can finish Deathscythe's repairs in time for tomorrow's mission. Go work on strategy or whatever it is you do when you're not bugging me." He began to walk away, drawing Quatre's startled eyes after him, and then suddenly stopped and sighed. "Sorry, Quat. I haven't been in the best of moods lately and. hey, was that out of character or what? Still, I really need to get these repairs done. Can you give me some peace?" Duo resumed his slow gait toward the discarded wrench.
Quatre toddled along behind him, trying to convince him. "Honestly now, Duo, this sort of injury could impede the mission. It's already done several times, right? You've been in pain for some time now-this wound looks pretty old-and an escort mission would be manageable without you, or even with you if you would just listen to me and get it bandaged."
Duo rolled his eyes. "Really, Quatre? I've got a stupid bruise and you're acting like it's life-threatening."
"Duo, how did you get this injury? It's covering your entire back. This will get infected if you let it go much longer. Please, Duo, just listen to me."
Stooping down to lift the wrench, Duo winced at the pressure building in his back, then sighed as he stood back up. Turning around, he found Quatre adamantly blocking his path. Duo tried to step around him, but Quatre moved into his way again, his eyebrows slanted downward. Baffled, Duo half laughed. "Hey, can I get back to work or what? Wufei just spent a fun-filled hour trying to yell over my music to get me to do it. Are you going to waste all that effort?"
Quatre exhaled lowly. "Duo, I didn't want to have to do this, but as a concerned and active member of this team, I must insist that your general health is important-despite Wufei's threats-and that you must come with me for first aide. We'll visit a hospital as soon as this mission is over."
On any other day, young Duo Maxwell would not only have agreed outright, but insisted that he be given ample medication to numb anything to do with the irksome area. Come mission's end, he'd have raced to the nearest hospital sporting young nurses and have milked the affliction for all it was worth. Young Duo Maxwell, however, had been suffering the injury long enough to be truly embarrassed about the prospect of anyone knowing, much less worrying about it. Besides, last time he checked it was just a bruise, probably from being knocked around in Deathscythe a few too many times; it was no big deal.
Duo brushed past Quatre, intent on finishing his work before midnight so he could actually get some sleep. "Quatre, don't worry. I'll be fine."
Without looking back, Duo didn't notice the pained expression on his comrade's face. He also failed to see the red stain he left on Quatre's sleeve as their shoulders brushed together. The cherubic boy opened his mouth as if to say something, but swallowed the words and turned to leave.
Duo knelt back at Deathscythe's feet. Despite the uncomfortable feeling, he put his shirt back on.
***
The moon was half a week past full and high in the night sky as Wufei and Heero sat silently in their kitchen. The steady click clack of Wufei eating a bowl of rice accompanied the similar familiar percussion of Heero's trademark laptop. A half-full pot of coffee sitting on the counter was the only clue to Trowa's former presence in the room; he had long since retired to bed, yet the soothing aroma of the lukewarm liquid still floated about the area. Sitting against opposite walls of the room, the two remaining pilots seemed not to mind the late hour of night.
Yawning and dirty, Duo walked through the eastern door, immediately breaking the rhythmic near-silence. Provoking a barely controlled expression of irritation from Wufei, Duo began to search the various cupboards for anything sweet, greasy, or salty. He discovered a lone bag of stale potato chips in a high cupboard, and with a simple, "Thank you, Howard," tore into the nearly flavorless wafers, then sat on top of the counter.
Being so intent on consuming the unhealthy contents of the bag, Duo didn't notice Quatre enter the kitchen until the slightly smaller boy dropped a large box of medical items next to him on the counter. Duo choked on a chip, recovered rather ungracefully, looked at the box, and finally looked at Quatre's uncharacteristically stern face. Trying to hold on to at least a scrap of dignity, Duo grinned and asked, "What's up, Quat?"
"If you won't listen to me, perhaps you should inspect it for yourself. Maybe then you'll do something about it." Into Duo's unwilling arms were placed a mirror, a small scissors, several rolls of gauze, a roll of medical tape, and a large tube of antibacterial pain reliever cream. Quatre crossed his arms, trying to mock the pose used by his sterner comrades when they tried to get Duo to do something. Defeated, the darker youth sighed and awkwardly climbed down off the counter, chips forgotten, and shuffled out of the kitchen through the western doorway, heading toward his small, makeshift sleeping quarters.
Wufei raised an eyebrow as he exited, but gave no more thought to "Maxwell's antics." If Heero paid any attention to Duo's much stiffer than normal pace he hid it well behind the screen of his laptop and its uninterrupted clacking keys.
***
Outside the dirty, rust stained door to Duo's room, furious shuffling, thuds, and groans of frustration could be heard coming from within. Duo stood shirtless inside in an awkward position, finally aligning the small mirror in a way that he could see the injury that had worried Quatre so much. Both of Duo's eyebrows were raised in surprise. "Holy shit No wonder Quatre was worried. Wow Since when did it get this bad?"
The sight reflected into Duo's eyes was a gruesome one. Apparently, his skin had split in a random pattern some time recently. The entire area was inflamed, slightly swollen, and bleeding slowly. It was surprising to Duo that he hadn't noticed, but he merely attributed that fact to intermittent numbness of the area. Looking closer due to sheer awe, he noticed that the abrasion in fact consisted of two mirrored wounds on either side of his spine.
The severity of the graphic image before him finally caught up with Duo and he gagged, then shuddered, putting the mirror down. "Better take care of that, then" He picked up the gauze, looked back and forth between it and the other tools, and began his struggle with them.
It happened at this time that Quatre was passing by on his way to bed. Concerned about the loud bangs and shuffles inside, he knocked tentatively on the door. "Duo? Are you alright in there?"
Muffled from inside came Duo's sneering, sarcastic reply, "Just fine, as if having scrapes the size of snow shoes running down my back counts as being fi-." He yelped suddenly and a thud of some small tool hitting the floor was heard followed by Duo's rapid cursing.
"Duo, I'm coming in." Quatre told the irritated boy.
"You're not." Duo quickly responded. "I don't need any he-" There was another yelp, thud, and more cursing.
"Duo" Quatre pleaded.
"I said I don't need help!" He dropped something else and cursed again. "It's not your problem."
Quatre took a deep breath and insisted, "You're a member of the team, Duo, and if you're not at your best, then it is my problem. You are decent, aren't you?"
Duo grumbled a "yes". "But I still don't need your-" Slice, thud. "Arg!"
The door swung open, granting Quatre a line of sight to Duo's predicament. He stood in the middle of the broom closet-sized room, gauze draped all over his body, tape tangled in his hair, holding a bleeding finger, and the pair of scissors responsible resting on the dingy floor where he had dropped them. Duo grinned sheepishly and laughed weakly, embarrassed.
Quatre just smiled a knowing smile before crossing the short expanse between them and helped the ailing boy untangle himself. "First things first, Duo. After the ointment, the gauze is wrapped around the wound, not draped over the entire body"
[End Chapter 01]
****Special Bonus****
AN: As a thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, here is Chapter 2 as well. Enjoy. ^_^
Chapter 02 - Pride Cometh Before a Fall
"Perhaps Quatre was right"
***
The night passed with no note-worthy incidents, and morning as well as departure time soon followed. What few possessions each boy owned along with any and all portable evidence of their stay were loaded into a train of five vehicles. Each was carrying both a Gundam and one fifth of the shipment of advanced weaponry, which the boys hand intercepted on their previous mission. Their current mission was to drive (and if necessary defend) that weaponry along a difficult path to a precise location in the middle of the Sahara desert. Even under optimal conditions, the trek would take two to three days of slow crawl in the scorching desert heat. The Gundams could sprint across much faster, but a confrontation with OZ in this location would be devastating. Within their mission parameters, the pilots had received a warning pertaining to rumors of a large OZ fleet stationed somewhere in southern Egypt. No further details were given; it was only a rumor after all, and the pilots would be traveling several hundred miles southwest of the stated location, and in a small caravan of trucks no less. As Yuy had briefly put it, their chance of any sort of confrontation was only at 2%. Then again, with a 98% chance of going unnoticed, every pilot eventually wondered why J requested that all 5 Gundams be taken.
It was near the designated departure time, and Heero and Wufei were waiting outside their trucks. Trowa sat in the driver's seat of his, the third truck in the line, right behind Heero's and Quatre's. Behind Trowa's truck was Duo's, and lastly Wufei's. The three boys waited silently for the arrival of Duo and Quatre.
Soft taps of feet and louder talking announced their approach. As they came within hearing distance, the other three became privy to their conversation.
"You're sure you'll be alright?" Quatre asked for the umpteenth time. "I still don't think it's wise for you to participate in any more mission until that injury is taken care of."
"Stop worrying! I tell you, I'm fine!" Duo protested, face betraying his irritation.
Wufei smirked. "For the very fact that you are who you are, Maxwell, I've always doubted that you are all right, mentally or otherwise."
"Har, har." Duo rolled his eyes. "So are we going or what?"
After an additional protest from Quatre, the pilots climbed into the trucks and received a last-minute reminder of their mission. Once again, Quatre pleaded with Duo to stay behind.
"Quatre, you're embarrassing me. Drop it, all right? I'm fine. Let's get going before hell freezes over, ok?" Resting back into the seat, Duo winced at the pressure.
***
The first day across the desert was distressingly uneventful. They spent the night in one of the trucks, setting up just before the sun went down, and started off just as things began to heat up again. To curb Duo's request to travel instead when it was cooler, Heero calmly explained that their trucks would be much easier to spot via a thermal scan if they would travel at night. By traveling in the day, they reduced their chances of being caught.
As the day grew increasingly hotter, moods stretched and tempers flared. Wufei began to feel edgy, temper rising with the temperature. Neither Trowa nor Heero's mood could be told by the silence over their com links, and both were as alert as always. Quatre was merely bored, perhaps tired if told by his winded tone of voice. Then again, anyone would be exhausted after talking to a bored Duo for several scorching hours straight.
Even through his chatty act, Duo's voice was hollow and windy. Sluggishness was common in such severe heat even with plenty of water and sunscreen. The air conditioning could not be run, though, because it would further stress the engines of the trucks. However, Duo's exhaustion came from another, closer source.
Quatre had changed Duo's bandages once more this morning, and it was the first time the other pilots got a good look at what ailed him. Wufei had ranted about "Maxwell's stupidity and weakness" for the subsequent hour, and even Trowa had voiced his concern. Quatre's note that the injury was worsening didn't help slow the irate Chinese man's rant, but even though Duo honestly should have been taken to a hospital following the discovery of his hastening rate of deterioration, they were already a day into the mission and hundreds of miles from civilization. Now fully aware of the danger he had willingly put himself into, Duo agreed that turning back alone would be far too risky, and taking one of the remaining four as an escort was out of the question.
As a result, the mission continued on as planned and Duo did his best to lighten the mood by ensuring that the com link never received a moment's rest. The throbbing pain he suffered from-despite the ointment, heavy bandages, and pills Quatre had forced him to take-didn't hinder his sociability or his ability to annoy the hell out of Wufei.
Late in the morning while they still drove with the sun in their eyes, Wufei finally snapped at Duo over the com, yelling at him to shut up. Surprisingly, Duo did so with little more than a grumble.
Several minutes later, Heero spoke almost silently over the com. "It's too quiet."
Wufei chortled. "Maxwell's finally shut up."
Duo stuck out his tongue in response, realizing too late that the com in the trucks only transferred voice.
"I agree." Quatre responded to Heero, ignoring Wufei. "For such a top security mission, this is certainly uneventful. We haven't seen so much as a sand storm since we started out."
As if on cue, scores of mobile suits rose from beneath the surrounding sand dunes and from the ever-shifting valleys beyond them. Several Aries suits took to the air and circled around, firing at the dunes in front and behind the trucks, causing avalanches of loose sand to trap them from all sides.
"Of all the dumb luck" Duo quipped.
Quatre's command came promptly over the com. "Quickly, everyone get going! I'll stay down on the com until you're in the air. Heero, Trowa, defend the front. Wufei and Duo, you take the rear. I'll join you when I get out. Go!"
Moments after Quatre cut the com, a rich British accent crackled over the radio. "Attention drivers. Unauthorized transport through this region is strictly prohibited. Step out of the vehicles peacefully so you may be transported. I repeat, attention drivers"
Quatre frowned as he strapped his goggles on and climbed into the back of his truck. Whatever he had been hoping to hear over the radio was obviously not said. Three telltale blasts sounded from either side of Quatre, signaling that three Gundams had taken flight. A cry of "Bloody hell!" sounded from the dashboard of his vehicle followed by the shriek of melting mechanical equipment.
There was a superstition, Quatre remembered, that anyone who met a Gundam in battle would not live to tell of it. In order to protect their mission, time and time again that conception had to become reality by his and his four friends' hands. Quatre climbed into the cockpit of his Gundam, Sandrock, started it up, opened the top of the truck and joined the battle. Soon after rising into the air, only Trowa's voice came over Quatre's Gundam's video com system.
"Quatre, I've got a problem here."
"What is it, Trowa?"
"I've been trying to reach you. The roof of my truck, it's jammed. I can't launch without serious damage to the vehicle." Trowa replied.
"Stay there!" Quatre told him, then contacted Heero. "Heero, how are you doing up there?"
A curt nod and a monotonous, "hn" told Quatre that everything was fine.
Dodging and taking fire from every side, Quatre slowly made his way towards the back of Duo and Wufei. When he arrived, he told Wufei to move closer to Heero, but guard the middle of their caravan, and then told Duo to stay in the back.
"I'd be better off guarding the left flank, Quatre! We're leaving Wufei's back open!" Duo argued.
"No, Duo. You're injured. Your defense wouldn't help Wufei more than he can help himself." Quatre swiftly responded. "Now, we have mobile dolls to take care of. A thermal scan indicates that only about three of their forces are piloted by people." Several rapid explosions sounded near Heero's battle as many machines exploded. "Check that, one mobile suit. The remainder of their forces is comprised of mobile doll Leos and Aries. We're taking heavy fire. Duo, stay close to me when we go after them. I don't want any accidents."
His scythe already glowing and several demolished mobile dolls at his feet, Duo launched toward a cluster of Leos, despite Quatre's protests, and proceeded to rip them apart. Quatre was only seconds behind and attacked the Aries dolls that were closing in behind Duo. After Duo was satisfied that the Leos were sufficiently destroyed, his cocky grin appeared on Quatre's screen. "See? I told you I'd be just fi-" A sickening, watery gasp sounded over the com system as the top half of a sparking Leo doll fired one last shot from a heap of other ruined parts. The blast connected soundly with Deathscythe's unwatched back, rocking the cockpit and slamming Duo around in the firm seat. Deathscythe hung weakly in midair as its pilot hung silently in his harness, eyes shock wide, but unable to be seen by the video com camera beneath his crown of bangs.
Wufei appeared suddenly nearby and put the offending Leo out of its misery with a powerful swipe of his glaive. "Maxwell!" he yelled angrily.
"Duo! Are you alright?" Quatre asked urgently.
Seeming not to notice, Heero continued to draw the bulk of the mobile dolls into melee at the front. He was, after all, the greatest threat to their lines.
Moments later, Duo coughed and grimaced, sitting up and taking the controls again. Hoarsely and weakly, his voice came over the com. "Yeah, I'll manage Ow, that smarts."
"Damn you, Maxwell!" Wufei roared. "Don't get yourself killed on a mere escort mission! These unskilled dolls aren't worth even your street rat perspiration!"
"Uh, thanks. I think." Duo responded.
"Duo, above you!" Quatre warned him of an incoming Aries.
He drew up his scythe and struck, searing and melting the metal body of the doll, cleaving it in two. Wufei returned to his designated post.
The mobile dolls kept on coming at them, and the confrontation stretched on for minutes, then hours. The cloven parts of dolls unlucky enough to be caught by blade or beam littered the desert sand, causing it to closer resemble a machine graveyard than the Sahara.
"Is there no end to these things?" Duo asked exasperatedly, dripping with sweat, panting, and wincing at every move.
The rest of the team was tired, and the armor of every Gundam was equally dented and worn by constant fire. Only Deathscythe's movements, however, had become jerky, shaky, and sluggish.
"Duo, fall back!" Quatre ordered. "Defend Trowa on the ground! You're in no condition to continue aerial combat!"
"He doesn't need defending! The dolls are going after us, not him! He'll become a target if I fall back! Besides, our left flank will be completely defenseless!" Duo argued, then yelled to blind himself of the pain of movement as he caught the legs of an Aries in the glowing energy of his scythe.
From the front, Heero had been listening to this argument continue for the past half-hour. Duo was right in every point he made, but regardless, the rest of the team would be able to defend him better if given the chance to surround him within the dual prison and sanctuary of sand and broken metal surrounding the trucks.
"Maxwell! That was an order!" Wufei yelled, interrupting the two boys. "Fall back now!"
Growling and glaring at Wufei's image on the screen, but too exhausted to argue with both him and Quatre, Duo finally gave in. "Fine! Whatever!" He turned and slashed a clean path to the ground.
Unfortunately, he didn't see the Aries doll behind him. Too late, Quatre yelled to warn him. The doll delivered a solid blow with the butt of its empty gun, piercing through a weak spot in Deathscythe's gundanium armor with the sheer force of the bludgeon. Something ripped; something gave way as Duo's silent, shock-stricken expression faded along with the light from his eyes.
If possible, the situation seemed far worse from the perspective of the other pilots.
"Duo!" Quatre cried.
"Maxwell!" Wufei roared.
They couldn't help, however, for even though the opposition had been significantly thinned, they were still overcome. Only Trowa's eyes were shielded from the lonely image of Duo slumped over his controls and the cockpit covered in a thick, scarlet liquid. The tragic picture flashed across the screen of each pilot as, like a marionette whose strings had been cut, Gundam Deathscythe fell lifelessly to the ground, joining the broken shells of those it had so recently preyed upon.
"Perhaps Quatre was right"
[End Chapter 2]
AN: Everything to this point has been very confusing, I'm sure. I especially had trouble deciding where to place what has become the prologue. It was originally designed to be a bit of action to get readers caught up in the story, abeit very confused, but I was seriously considering holding off and putting it as an interlude later in the story. As you can see, I often decide to go with the original plan. Unfortunately, I'm sure this has left everyone with many, many questions. Just so everyone knows, yes, the child the woman carried out was her second of three. How is this possible? All answers will be revealed in an up-and-coming chapter. This chapter will be conveniently sub-titled "After a turning point, there is no turning back." Giving the actual title this soon would give far too much away for the next chapter.
Reasons both chapters one and two are contained in this update go as follows:
1) On FanFiction.net, there is no option to post the prologue separately. Because I am such a lazy ass, I didn't feel like going back and combining chapter one and the prologue together.
2) I am quite pleased that I have received several reviews already. I would like to thank those reviewers with this little bonus. Thank you, everyone who has read this and whose endless hours of plot discussion with me have gone into the creation of this story. I am greatly indebted to you.
3) I probably won't have time to work on typing this story, let alone updating again until after the 17th of June. Why? I really need to study for final exams this time. I'm also taking my ACT test on the 14th. On the 15th, one of my uncles will be driving me out to Colorado, where I will spend the next two months helping another uncle with household duties, including babysitting his son almost 24/7 so my little cousin doesn't need to spend the entire summer in day care.
Therefore, I leave you with this malevolent, evil cliffhanger. ^_^ Enjoy your exams!