Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Black and Blue ❯ One-Shot
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: Vinyl-Koneko 
Duo returns from a failed mission, expecting the worsed from Heero, when something out of the ordinary happens instead. Language, TWT, 1+2 friendship fic, COMPLETE.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 11.16.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 784 | Status: Completed
Duo returns from a failed mission, expecting the worsed from Heero, when something out of the ordinary happens instead. Language, TWT, 1+2 friendship fic, COMPLETE.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 11.16.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 784 | Status: Completed
+ Title: Black and Blue
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net
+ Rating: PG
+ Couplings: 1+2
+ Warnings: TWT, language, friendship fic
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.
+ Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. If you sue, you get the Lucent Technologies stocks that are allegedly paying for my college education.
+ Comments: Duo's POV. Hey, if Star Wars can get a PG rating, I guess this fic can too. It's not that bad. *shrugs*
*~**~*
It's returning from a failed mission that is always the hardest. You feel five hundred pounds heavier, and that weight becomes triple fold when you see the looks on the other guys' faces: the look of barely concealed disappointment. It's always the same. Quatre's expression that seems to be saying, "You gave it your best." Trowa pretending he doesn't care either way. Wufei being the best out of everyone by trying not to be in the same room as you for a couple of days. Heero's the worst, though. He doesn't cover it up, ignore it, or avoid it altogether. He tells you.
That's probably why I'm slinking through the shadows of our safe house, avoiding each of the other pilots. I just want to get to bed. Maybe things will look better in the morning. The master of stealth that I am, it's no problem to sneak around behind everyone's back. I'm stiff and sore, but I suck it up anyway, or at least until I get into my room, shut the door behind me, and curl up in the fetal position on my bed.
The mission was a simple recon job. Any idiot could have gotten it done. Granted that I, Duo Maxwell, am not your typical, everyday idiot; I've been reassured by Heero and Wufei that I'm an idiot nonetheless. I had been sloppy. I didn't check to see where the nearest military base was to the one I was to be snooping around. I went right by their sensors on my way in, not even in stealth mode because in the middle of a New England forest you don't think OZ is going to be placing sensors around willy-nilly. I was forced into a fight; mobile suits can be taken out pretty damn easily by my Deathscythe, but when there is a good nine dozen of them (thirty-six Aries, thirty-six Leos, and thirty-six Pisces), things get a little difficult.
Another reason I'm sneaking around is because I'm in the same condition I would be if I decided to wrestle a grizzly bear completely naked and unarmed. It isn't pretty. If they think I look bad, though, they should go check out Deathscythe. I'm lucky he held up at all.
I get to my room, quietly shutting the door behind me, leaning up against it with a sigh of relief. No one noticed; they must have all gone to bed already. I look over at my bed longingly. It's only eight feet away. I can make it. I push myself back up - hand clenching the doorframe for leverage - when my breath catches in my throat. A pair of Prussian blue eyes are glaring at me through the darkness, and I know he's found out the truth before I can hide the guilt in my eyes.
"You failed again," he said, voice a complete monotone. It wasn't a question.
I nod slowly, entranced by the emotion in his eyes. It's probably revulsion. The Perfect Soldier never would have failed the way I did. Well, there was that time with General Noventa, but that wasn't his fault. Heero wouldn't be as incompetent as I have been.
He snorts. "Fool." I lower my head, accepting the onslaught I know is to come. "OZ gains an advantage every time you screw up. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're really on their side, feeding General Khushrenada information about the Gundams." He stands slowly, coming towards where I'm cowering against the door. I'm pitiful, I know, but getting into a fight with Heero is the last thing on my mind. He's stronger than I am, and I'm a sore loser. "What's your excuse this time?"
"I didn't scope out area bases," I say quickly, looking at the carpeting instead of his eyes. "They caught me off guard and unprepared." I told him what he wants to hear, hoping maybe he won't press the issue any further so I can get some rest. I look up meekly, and the street-smart brat in me starts to protest. I never gave into anything or anyone. Why am I starting now?
Heero's hand ends up on my shoulder; I can't help but wince. There's a cut from the restraining harness, and I know the blood has soaked into my shirt. He pulls his hand away, studying the red tinting his fingers. Before I can begin to explain, he grabs a handful of my shirt, tearing it away from my body. I can't help but gasp as the cool air suddenly brushes across my skin. I notice his eyes widen slightly before schooling his expression back to one of indifference. He's looking at my injuries.
I don't need to look in a mirror to know what he sees. I felt them all getting as I got beat around in Deathscythe's cockpit. The harness left an angry, red welt across my chest, shaped like an X and cut into my shoulders, bleeding into my shirt. My ribcage is one giant bruise, matching the ones that I know will be on my hips. There's a cut at the small of my back from when I crash-landed near the safe house, leaning forward to hide my face as the view screens shattered around me. There's going to be glass that needs to be picked out of my skin. Now that my shirt's off, the blood is probably soaking into my hair since the layer of cotton is gone.
"You're hurt," Heero says, and he sounds a little stunned.
"Well no shit, Sherlock! I think I noticed!" I can't help but yell harshly. I'm not concerned with the possibility of him hitting me. At least if I'm unconscious, or dead, I won't feel the pain. Heero reaches out his fingers tentatively, lightly tracing the contours of my injuries. I push back against the door, gritting my teeth against crying out from the sensation of the shrapnel burrowing further into my skin.
"Lie down on the bed," he commands, voice a little gentler than it was before. "I'll get the med kit."
He leaves through the adjoining door. The interesting thing about this safe house is that Heero and I don't have to share a room, for once, but each pair of rooms has a door leading between them. I'm not sure why, but at the moment it's better for me seeing that I can take as long as I want to stand and walk over to the bed. Heero returns just as I collapse face first onto the mattress.
"You want me on my front or back?" I ask, bracing myself on my elbows in an attempt to alleviate the weight on my chest.
"This is fine," he replies, and gets to work. Heero's fingers are tracing over my back. Whenever he comes across a piece of glass, he pulls the shard out with the pair of tweezers. It hurts like hell, but I'm not going to tell him that. "Why do you do this?" he asks after a few minutes of silence.
I don't need to second-guess what he's talking about. "I'm just not as thorough as you or the others," I reply lamely.
"It'd be easier for you to not slack off when what seems like an easy mission comes around."
"Well I'm sorry I can't be perfect all the time," I snap back, slightly miffed. There's no way Heero should be able to compare himself to me. He was pretty much brainwashed by Doctor Jerk-off. I just seem to be around for the ride.
I felt some sort of cooling gel being rubbed into the wounds. I couldn't help but relax under the feeling, but all of a sudden it started to sting. I hissed through my clenched teeth, burying my head into the pillows and biting my lip so hard I could taste blood.
"Do you want it to get infected?"
"That doesn't keep it from stinging! Shit!" Heero had placed more of the disinfectant on a cotton swab and had begun to rub it in the larger gash. When he deemed it clean enough, he tore off a piece of gauze and wrapped it around my torso. I knew it should have been wrapped more tightly, but Heero was being mindful of my bruises.
"You need to lie on your back now." I rolled over soundlessly, watching as he worked on the injuries on my chest. He looked so damn concentrated that I wanted to laugh, but breathing hurt enough. "How's your Gundam look?"
"Howard will crucify me." I grinned slightly, imagining the look on Howard's face when he first got sight of Deathscythe's condition. "It'll take a while to repair."
"Good. Then you won't be able to go out on a mission until you've recovered." He bandaged the worse parts on my shoulders and began to put the items back into the med kit. "You want some painkillers?"
I nodded. "I can't take them dry, though."
Heero stood, still looking down at me. "I'll get them for you; then you should rest."
"Okay," I replied, watching as he went for the door. "Hey, Heero?" He turned to look at me, a questioning expression in his deep blue eyes. "Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?"
He turned his face away, looking at his hand over the door handle. Heero's voice was so low that I had to strain to hear him. "Because...you're my friend and you were injured." Heero looked back over, and I wished the shadows didn't hide the expression in his eyes. "And because I'm not easy on you. Your training was nowhere near mine and I think..." He fidgeted. "I think I'm envious of how open you can be."
Heero left without saying anything more, leaving me to absorb what he just said. I couldn't help but smile as the meaning behind his words sank in.
*~**~*
Owari
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net
+ Rating: PG
+ Couplings: 1+2
+ Warnings: TWT, language, friendship fic
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.
+ Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. If you sue, you get the Lucent Technologies stocks that are allegedly paying for my college education.
+ Comments: Duo's POV. Hey, if Star Wars can get a PG rating, I guess this fic can too. It's not that bad. *shrugs*
*~**~*
It's returning from a failed mission that is always the hardest. You feel five hundred pounds heavier, and that weight becomes triple fold when you see the looks on the other guys' faces: the look of barely concealed disappointment. It's always the same. Quatre's expression that seems to be saying, "You gave it your best." Trowa pretending he doesn't care either way. Wufei being the best out of everyone by trying not to be in the same room as you for a couple of days. Heero's the worst, though. He doesn't cover it up, ignore it, or avoid it altogether. He tells you.
That's probably why I'm slinking through the shadows of our safe house, avoiding each of the other pilots. I just want to get to bed. Maybe things will look better in the morning. The master of stealth that I am, it's no problem to sneak around behind everyone's back. I'm stiff and sore, but I suck it up anyway, or at least until I get into my room, shut the door behind me, and curl up in the fetal position on my bed.
The mission was a simple recon job. Any idiot could have gotten it done. Granted that I, Duo Maxwell, am not your typical, everyday idiot; I've been reassured by Heero and Wufei that I'm an idiot nonetheless. I had been sloppy. I didn't check to see where the nearest military base was to the one I was to be snooping around. I went right by their sensors on my way in, not even in stealth mode because in the middle of a New England forest you don't think OZ is going to be placing sensors around willy-nilly. I was forced into a fight; mobile suits can be taken out pretty damn easily by my Deathscythe, but when there is a good nine dozen of them (thirty-six Aries, thirty-six Leos, and thirty-six Pisces), things get a little difficult.
Another reason I'm sneaking around is because I'm in the same condition I would be if I decided to wrestle a grizzly bear completely naked and unarmed. It isn't pretty. If they think I look bad, though, they should go check out Deathscythe. I'm lucky he held up at all.
I get to my room, quietly shutting the door behind me, leaning up against it with a sigh of relief. No one noticed; they must have all gone to bed already. I look over at my bed longingly. It's only eight feet away. I can make it. I push myself back up - hand clenching the doorframe for leverage - when my breath catches in my throat. A pair of Prussian blue eyes are glaring at me through the darkness, and I know he's found out the truth before I can hide the guilt in my eyes.
"You failed again," he said, voice a complete monotone. It wasn't a question.
I nod slowly, entranced by the emotion in his eyes. It's probably revulsion. The Perfect Soldier never would have failed the way I did. Well, there was that time with General Noventa, but that wasn't his fault. Heero wouldn't be as incompetent as I have been.
He snorts. "Fool." I lower my head, accepting the onslaught I know is to come. "OZ gains an advantage every time you screw up. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're really on their side, feeding General Khushrenada information about the Gundams." He stands slowly, coming towards where I'm cowering against the door. I'm pitiful, I know, but getting into a fight with Heero is the last thing on my mind. He's stronger than I am, and I'm a sore loser. "What's your excuse this time?"
"I didn't scope out area bases," I say quickly, looking at the carpeting instead of his eyes. "They caught me off guard and unprepared." I told him what he wants to hear, hoping maybe he won't press the issue any further so I can get some rest. I look up meekly, and the street-smart brat in me starts to protest. I never gave into anything or anyone. Why am I starting now?
Heero's hand ends up on my shoulder; I can't help but wince. There's a cut from the restraining harness, and I know the blood has soaked into my shirt. He pulls his hand away, studying the red tinting his fingers. Before I can begin to explain, he grabs a handful of my shirt, tearing it away from my body. I can't help but gasp as the cool air suddenly brushes across my skin. I notice his eyes widen slightly before schooling his expression back to one of indifference. He's looking at my injuries.
I don't need to look in a mirror to know what he sees. I felt them all getting as I got beat around in Deathscythe's cockpit. The harness left an angry, red welt across my chest, shaped like an X and cut into my shoulders, bleeding into my shirt. My ribcage is one giant bruise, matching the ones that I know will be on my hips. There's a cut at the small of my back from when I crash-landed near the safe house, leaning forward to hide my face as the view screens shattered around me. There's going to be glass that needs to be picked out of my skin. Now that my shirt's off, the blood is probably soaking into my hair since the layer of cotton is gone.
"You're hurt," Heero says, and he sounds a little stunned.
"Well no shit, Sherlock! I think I noticed!" I can't help but yell harshly. I'm not concerned with the possibility of him hitting me. At least if I'm unconscious, or dead, I won't feel the pain. Heero reaches out his fingers tentatively, lightly tracing the contours of my injuries. I push back against the door, gritting my teeth against crying out from the sensation of the shrapnel burrowing further into my skin.
"Lie down on the bed," he commands, voice a little gentler than it was before. "I'll get the med kit."
He leaves through the adjoining door. The interesting thing about this safe house is that Heero and I don't have to share a room, for once, but each pair of rooms has a door leading between them. I'm not sure why, but at the moment it's better for me seeing that I can take as long as I want to stand and walk over to the bed. Heero returns just as I collapse face first onto the mattress.
"You want me on my front or back?" I ask, bracing myself on my elbows in an attempt to alleviate the weight on my chest.
"This is fine," he replies, and gets to work. Heero's fingers are tracing over my back. Whenever he comes across a piece of glass, he pulls the shard out with the pair of tweezers. It hurts like hell, but I'm not going to tell him that. "Why do you do this?" he asks after a few minutes of silence.
I don't need to second-guess what he's talking about. "I'm just not as thorough as you or the others," I reply lamely.
"It'd be easier for you to not slack off when what seems like an easy mission comes around."
"Well I'm sorry I can't be perfect all the time," I snap back, slightly miffed. There's no way Heero should be able to compare himself to me. He was pretty much brainwashed by Doctor Jerk-off. I just seem to be around for the ride.
I felt some sort of cooling gel being rubbed into the wounds. I couldn't help but relax under the feeling, but all of a sudden it started to sting. I hissed through my clenched teeth, burying my head into the pillows and biting my lip so hard I could taste blood.
"Do you want it to get infected?"
"That doesn't keep it from stinging! Shit!" Heero had placed more of the disinfectant on a cotton swab and had begun to rub it in the larger gash. When he deemed it clean enough, he tore off a piece of gauze and wrapped it around my torso. I knew it should have been wrapped more tightly, but Heero was being mindful of my bruises.
"You need to lie on your back now." I rolled over soundlessly, watching as he worked on the injuries on my chest. He looked so damn concentrated that I wanted to laugh, but breathing hurt enough. "How's your Gundam look?"
"Howard will crucify me." I grinned slightly, imagining the look on Howard's face when he first got sight of Deathscythe's condition. "It'll take a while to repair."
"Good. Then you won't be able to go out on a mission until you've recovered." He bandaged the worse parts on my shoulders and began to put the items back into the med kit. "You want some painkillers?"
I nodded. "I can't take them dry, though."
Heero stood, still looking down at me. "I'll get them for you; then you should rest."
"Okay," I replied, watching as he went for the door. "Hey, Heero?" He turned to look at me, a questioning expression in his deep blue eyes. "Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?"
He turned his face away, looking at his hand over the door handle. Heero's voice was so low that I had to strain to hear him. "Because...you're my friend and you were injured." Heero looked back over, and I wished the shadows didn't hide the expression in his eyes. "And because I'm not easy on you. Your training was nowhere near mine and I think..." He fidgeted. "I think I'm envious of how open you can be."
Heero left without saying anything more, leaving me to absorb what he just said. I couldn't help but smile as the meaning behind his words sank in.
*~**~*
Owari