If you recognise it… I don't own it.
1234567890
"Gundam Wing" – Yes this is a non-crossover.
1234567890
Start
1234567890
Quatre's POV
"We shouldn't be here." The thought ran through my head, "This shouldn't have happened."
I'd never thought that he would be the first of us to die.
I never dreamed that all four of us would stand in a crematorium and mourn.
And it wasn't even a natural death. Violence had claimed him… And destroyed him. Only DNA had linked the tattered and broken shell to the brother I had known.
It hadn't even looked like him on the autopsy table.
I hadn't seen them in person for nearly eight months.
He had been missing for two… And yet we hadn't noticed until I was called.
We hadn't noticed… We hadn't called… We hadn't missed him.
And his injuries hadn't happened in one day. More likely that he had spent his last two months being tortured…
Until they put him out of his misery.
We didn't even know who "they" were. There were no leads… No evidence… No answers.
We didn't know who. We didn't know how. We weren't even sure why.
All we had was a hole in our hearts. And a funeral to attend.
A plain pine box… No frills… No decoration… He had insisted.
I barely had a Will drawn out, and that was only because the company.
But he had had a Will, and a detailed plan for his funeral… Even if I didn't understand why he wanted certain things done certain ways.
And the coffin didn't seem large enough. How could something so small, contain a personality so large?
How could the one of us with the most life be taken from us? How could anyone end such existence?... And why?
Was it the first shot at the Gundams? Or something more personal? Or was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time?
Heero couldn't tear his eyes from the Coffin. Even as it entered the furnace.
Wufei was murmuring something in his native tongue. I wasn't sure if it was a prayer for the departed soul, or a curse on those who had snatched him from us.
Trowa squeezed my hand in an attempt to comfort and console me. But he knew, as I did, that there would be no comfort that day.
They cut his hair. Allah! They had cut his hair! They had stolen his cross.
They had beaten him… Strangled him… And burnt him beyond almost all recognition.
They had left him naked on the streets of L2. At least he had been dead when they did that.
We were not sure how far the assault gone. And I was torn between wanting to know. And not wanted my worst fears confirmed.
Two months. How many of those days was he a prisoner? We weren't sure if we would ever know.
Had he waited for us to rescue him? Had he hoped for… Relief from his torment? Had he tried to escape? Had he tried to contact us?... To warn us… Or to ask... Beg… Plead for help?
I had not slept without nightmare since we had been told… And I doubted the others had either.
He'd needed us… And we had not been there.
It was all my fault… I should have known something was wrong. He always phoned. At least once a week. More often twice.
He always had an invite me to do something with him… But I never had any time.
"Next time." I would tell myself, "Next time."
There would be no more "next times". No more tomorrows. No more offers of tennis… One-on-one basketball… Baseball… Crazy golf… Frisbee golf.
No more invites to the cinema… The theatre… A club… A bar… A museum… A restaurant… A coffeehouse… A barbecue.
I had never had any time… And now there was no more time.
Allah! The Maganacs has seen him more than I! He had had an open invitation to the village. One which he frequently made use of.
There were some of the last friendly faces he would've seen.
I felt strangely out of place in a crematorium… There were so many people. Faces that I didn't recognize.
Howard had been given the invite list. According to him, everyone he had contacted had dropped everything for this.
And yet I had been unable to find five minutes, while he was alive, for the person I thought of as my best friend.
What sort of person was I? I could look in a mirror… But I didn't like what I saw.
He deserved so much better.
I haven't even really been busy. I just hadn't wanted the hassle of rearranging my schedule for him… Or when it was arranged in advance… Something would come up… Usually not that important… But I would favour that over him.
I wasn't the only one. I knew that for a fact.
But that made it worse! Not better. We had all brushed him aside. All far too busy!
We deserved the pain we were going through.
But he had not! He had done nothing wrong.
But he paid the price for our neglect of him.
Had he wondered why we were taking so long to find him? Or had he thought we didn't care?
Did he give up on us? Had he come to the conclusion that we no longer wanted him?
Our sins… And he paid the price.
Oh Duo! Forgive me! Forgive us! We never meant it to end like this!
1234567890
This one does have more to it. But I decided to get people's opinions on it, before I committed part of myself to writing it at some point.
So opinions desired…
Also, it's not a Death Fic. It just starts at the Funeral.