Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Burnout ❯ chapter 2 ( Chapter 3 )

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Chapter two

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"Have you seen Quatre?" The stoic banged boy asked the energetic braided one as the latter bounded past, a flashlight lighting his way.

"Gomen ne. . . But Hiiro's looking for you." Duo said in a hushed, slightly out of breath voice. "Hey, if you see Wu Fei, You didn't see me -`kay?"

"Depends," Trowa said evenly, "What did you do?"

Duo feigned hurt, "Gimme a break! Why do you automatically assume I did something?" He flashed a grin.

"Simple." Trowa almost allowed a smirk to escape the stoic mask he wore, "It's you."

"That's not fair." Duo pouted. "Just because it's me, doesn't mean I did something."

"True." Trowa agreed, "But it's more likely."

"MAXWELL! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU HIDING?" The irate Chinese boy's voice ranted from down the hall.

The braided boy eeped, "Uh. . . I gotta go! If I see Quat, I'll be sure to tell him that you're looking for him! Uh…" He looked around at the various doors in the hall. "Did you try the hanger? I noticed that he sometimes goes there during storms…"

"YOU KNOW I'M GOING TO FIND YOU!"

"Ack! Gotta hide… gotta hide…" Duo frantically looked around, "Trowa, please?"

"The hanger, huh…?"

The braided boy nodded, turning off his flashlight and hiding behind a large potted plant.

"Tro. . . He's gonna find me here!"

"My room, in the closet, there's a ladder leading to the attic, you can hide there."

The braided boy bowed, "Arigato!" and he slipped into the banged boy's room just as Wu Fei rounded the corner.

"Barton, Where's Maxwell?" Wu Fei demanded, shining his flashlight over by the potted plant that Duo had just fled from.

Trowa shrugged, "Haven't seen him. Have you seen Quatre?"

"Winner?" The Chinese boy forgot his quest for a moment to think about the question, "Not since he left the kitchen. Are you sure you haven't seen, Duo?"

"What did he do this time?" Trowa asked avoiding the question.

Wu Fei scowled, "I'd rather not talk about it."

The taller boy shrugged, "Good luck finding him."

"You DO know where he is!" Wu Fei accused. Trowa just stared at him. With a huff of frustration, the dark haired boy relented, "Fine, I'll tell you what he did. . ."

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So many people were screaming. So many people were dying and there was nothing he could do. "Allah!" he sobbed out to his god, "Make it stop. . . just please make it stop!"

A little girl.

Quatre didn't want to know.

Covered in blood.

He didn't want to feel.

Screaming for her mother.

"NO MORE! Please!"

As the building behind her blew.

"ALLAH! NO!"

And blew her away too.

Quatre screamed, writhing in his own misery, trapped between reality and his nightmares.

"SOMEONE HELP ME!"

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Trowa checked the closet by the foyer. The Arabian's light blue raincoat still hung in its proper place. `He wouldn't go out without a coat, would he?' Emerald eyes narrowed, "Yeah, he would." He told himself. Reaching in, he found his own dark green coat and a flashlight. After donning the coat, checking the batteries, and blowing out his candle, Trowa headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Hiiro's cold voice demanded.

Trowa gave him a side glance, "To look for Quatre. He's missing."

The Japanese boy raised an eyebrow, "He would leave the house?"

"Duo thought that he might be in the hanger with Sandrock." He opened the door and stepped out into the onslaught of water.

After a moment, Hiiro grabbed his own coat and flashlight and followed the taller boy.

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A soldier, barely eighteen, red hair, blue eyes, medium build.

He had been thrown from his Taurus when it exploded. He now lay frightened, alone and dying in the underbrush, a gapping hole in his abdomen. His innards were scattered around him on the grass. He was crying for his mother. He didn't want to die alone.

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"No. . . No. . ." Quatre whimpered, "No. . ."

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Trowa and Hiiro swept their flashlight around the hanger. "Someone's been here." Hiiro noted, gesturing towards the puddles of water.

The banged boy stared at the puddles, then swept his eyes across the room again, "QUATRE. . ." He called out.

"I'll check the cockpit." Hiiro said making the distance in a short jog and then climbing to where Sandrock's cockpit was. "It's empty." He called down.

The banged boy frowned, "I know he's here. . . Somewhere. . ."

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An old man cradled the limp form of his beloved wife. He had loved this woman with all of his heart for the past seventy-two years. He had cherished waking next to her every morning. His old heart was breaking more and more with each passing moment that she did not respond to his words. He wanted to join her.

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A wave of hopeless grief washed over Quatre, and like the little girl and soldier, the sense of dying alone was ever present. He needed to get away. . . he couldn't handle this anymore. . . The sorrow. . . it was like he was drowning in it.

"Someone, Help me!"

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A whimper, ever so soft. He was sure of it, but where was it coming from? "QUATRE?"

Hiiro frowned slightly at the taller boy, "Trowa, we're supposed to leave in half an hour." He said pointedly.

The boy glared at the other through the curtain of reddish brown hair that covered half of his face, "I'm not going anywhere until we find him." He said evenly.

"You would disobey orders? Jeopardize the mission?" Hiiro demanded, "He's not our concern."

"He is my concern!" Trowa said coldly, even with a little anger.

Hiiro blinked surprised by Trowa's out burst; and the Thunder echoed.

"AAAHHH!"

"QUATRE?" Trowa pushed past the Japanese boy and passed his light across Sandrock again.

"What's that?" Hiiro stopped him and shined his light in between Heavyarms and Sandrock.

Trowa ran closer to get a better look. It was a pale, almost white, arm. "Quatre!"

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The small blond was curled in on himself, shivering with cold. He was in a tormented sleep, which left him straining for each breath.

"Quatre?" Trowa called, kneeling next to the boy. "Quatre?"

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Pain. Agony. Suffering. Sorrow. Hatred. Loss. These bombarded the empathy in a very tangible sense. He felt as if he would be crushed under the weight of them, and still more arose. "TROWA. . . HELP ME!"

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The blonde moaned and began to convulse. "Help. . . me. . ." He chocked out.

"Quatre, wake up." Trowa ordered, shaking the boy's shoulder, "Quatre."

Thunder cracked, sounding directly over head. The blonde grit his teeth and groaned, tossing and turning. "Help. . . me. . ."

The banged boy frowned and ran his hand through the smaller boy's bangs. He jolted away sharply when he came in contact with Quatre's forehead and the blonde shrieked. Even Hiiro stepped away from the boy. "Something is really wrong with him." Trowa told him.

"I noticed." The Japanese boy glared. "We don't have time for this."

Trowa glared at the stoic boy and then gathered the blonde into his arms, "I suggest you call a medic." He said, wrapping his coat around the trembling boy.

"You know we can't do that!" Hiiro argued, "It'll compromise the mission."

"Believe it or not, Hiiro, but there are some things that are more important then the mission." He turned and headed for the door, "Besides, with the mission you and I have been given; now would not be a good time to have one of us out of commission."

"I'll call the medic, and Dr. J." Hiiro relented, Heading to his Gundam.

"Do you have anybody in mind?"

"Yeah."

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To be continued. . .