Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Burnout ❯ chapter 13 ( Chapter 15 )

Author's notes: Gomen ne! I am so sorry for taking so long with these chapters!

Honestly, It's not from a lack of working on them. . .

::begs for forgiveness::

Anyways, Same old, same old. This hasn't been beta'd.

Anybody sees mistakes, please let me know and I'll fix them.

Arigato.

^-^

Weissangel24

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Chapter thirteen

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They were easily apprehended, Hiiro being barely conscious and Quatre being to emotionally drained to care. They didn't even try to put up a fight, yet that didn't stop the OZ soldiers from treating them harshly.

Quatre's guard was especially abusive to the lithe blonde. The husky soldier was in his late thirties. He had dark hair and beady eyes. His breath smelled of alcohol. His temper was short and he took it out on the restrained boy.

"Hurry up!" He ordered, shoving the blonde with the end of his rifle. The teenager stumbled and tripped. Unable to stop himself, he landed roughly on the floor. When he didn't move to pick himself up, the soldier kicked him in the gut, "Get up!" He demanded.

Quatre wouldn't move. . . or he couldn't.

The guard kicked him again, harder, repeating the order.

A soft, strangled cry escaped the boy's throat, as he curled in on himself for meager protection.

"GET UP!" The soldier bellowed, reaching down and yanking the boy to his feet by his hair. "WHEN I SAY TO GET UP- THAT'S WHAT I EXPECT!" He screamed.

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The soft cry reached the Japanese pilot's ears, bringing him to a higher awareness. Through his hazy vision, Hiiro could see that Quatre was in trouble.

The guard was backhanding him repeatedly, yelling at him.

The blonde in turn was trembling. His lips were moving, trying to say something, but his voice wasn't cooperating. His eyes. . .

Hiiro frowned.

The blonde's eyes lacked the usual life that depicted him as an individual. They seemed dead.

`He's given up. . .' The Gundam pilot realized, "Quatre. . ." His voice hoarse and weak.

"Shut UP!" the husky guard demanded, before turning back to the blonde. He threw the boy down. "What?" He jeered, "You're not so mighty without your Gundam-are ya?"

Quatre didn't respond, he just stared into nothingness.

"Quatre. . ." Hiiro called, his voice a little stronger.

The solder stood towering above the frail teenager. He pointed his gun at the blonde's head, "My orders were to bring you alive." He announced, "However, I have no problem with disobeying orders."

The blonde looked up at him, his lips still mouthing whatever his voice wasn't allowing him to say. There were tears in his eyes, but they would not fall.

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The guard shifted his weight, moving just enough for Hiiro to make out the blonde's beaten face. The Perfect Soldier couldn't hear what the boy was saying, but he was able to read his bleeding lips.

`Trowa. . . I'm so sorry, Trowa. . .'

"Quat. . ." Hiiro whispered. Whatever malice he held for his deranged friend melted away. . . After all, Quatre was still his friend, and his friend needed help.

`Besides,' His soldier's mind supplied, `In his present state of mind, he is no longer a threat. If he's not a threat, he doesn't need to die.'

The Perfect Soldier adapted his `Mission Accepted' mask, and prepared to take whatever action was necessary to protect that boy.

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His guards, being young soldiers, didn't realize the danger they were in. . . Poor them.

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Hiiro frowned at the dead guards that surrounded him and the blonde pilot. They were foolish to think that they could stop him. Foolish people die. With a low growl of disgust, the Japanese pilot turned from the grisly scene and focused his attentions to the smaller pilot.

Quatre sat in a catatonic state, staring with unseeing eyes at the floor.

"Quatre?" Hiiro called, kneeling before the boy, escaping his handcuffs and then relieving the blonde from his. "04?"

The blonde just stared. His lips weren't even moving anymore.

"Status?" Hiiro commanded.

He got no response.

"Quatre. . ." He pleaded quietly, "Snap out of this. . . Trowa wouldn't want you to be like this."

Still nothing.

Hiiro grit his teeth, glaring at the smaller boy. This wasn't in his training; he didn't know what to do. . .

The low drum of boots marching down metal corridors alerted the soldier.

"04, We must escape." Hiiro said in his `Mission' tone.

Nothing.

"Damn it, Quatre, You have to snap out of this!" Hiiro shook the boy.

The room filled with OZ soldiers. They quickly surrounded the pilots.

Hiiro sent them death glares as they aimed their weapons at them. Unconsciously, he held the blonde tighter, almost protectively. "We are unarmed, and Have no desire to retaliate." He stated evenly.

"Funny thing to hear from a child who single handedly killed five grown men." A soldier mocked.

"They posed a threat." Hiiro replied, slowly standing, and pulling Quatre up with him, holding him close. "Threats need to be eliminated."

"I agree." The soldier nodded. "However, from our point of view, you pilots are the threat. We have orders to execute you." He aimed his pistol at the boys.

Hiiro's glare deepened, and he growled low in his throat.

Suddenly, the sound of rushing soldiers, followed by the clicking of gun safeties being removed filled the room. "We are members of the Treize Organization." A brunette soldier announced, "Throw down you're weapons OZ, we don't wish to kill former comrades."

"The Treize Organization?" The OZ soldier frowned, "You're revolting!?"

"Yes. We find that OZ no longer follows His Excellency Treize's ideals. Therefore, we must take matters into our own hands. Starting with the release of the Gundam Pilots."

"Damn You!" The OZ soldier swore, throwing down his weapons and raising his arms in surrender. His subordinates quickly followed suit.

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The Perfect Soldier frowned at all of this. `OZ is falling apart at the seams. . .' He analyzed, as he hoisted the unresponsive blonde onto his back, while shooting glares at their rescuers as he followed them. `At this rate, they will destroy themselves.'

They were lead down the corridors, deep into the colony.

"Here." A voice said after a while, cutting into Hiiro's thoughts. He looked up to see the brunette rebel gesturing to a door.

"Nani?" Hiiro demanded, hefting the blonde up. The Arabian pilot was heavier then he looked, and the weight on his back was becoming irritating.

"There are doctors that are willing to look at your friend."

"Doctors?" Hiiro glared. He wasn't prepared to trust these traitors, nor was he willing to leave Quatre with them.

"You know them well enough." The soldier smirked, pushing open the door.

"Still suspicious as ever, Hiiro?" A gravelly voice jeered. "That's what makes you such an excellent soldier."

"Dr. J?" Hiiro frowned, cautiously entering the room.

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"Very interesting." Instructor H mused, shining a light into Quatre's aquamarine eyes. The crazy old coot frowned when the blonde failed to even blink.

"We told you he was a poor choice for a pilot!" Dr. J and G were ranting. "That the Wing Zero was too much for any human. . . And now look at what you've done. . . He's absolutely useless. . . We might as well kill him."

Hiiro's head whipped up from his gaze on the floor.

Instructor H quirked an eyebrow, "Kill him? After we just lost 03? Never." He snorted with disgust and irritation, "Besides, this is to be expected."

"What do you mean?" Hiiro demanded.

H glanced at the lanky teenager that leaned against the far wall, "He was conditioned not to use his Newtype abilities against his allies because it would be disastrous. If he somehow managed to ignore that conditioning, this state was to be a back up plan." The instructor gloated a bit, "Actually it was pure genius on my part. This state causes his empathic powers to overload and short out. They will need time to recover, but in a short time, he should be back to his normal self."

"Is it irreversible?" Hiiro asked.

H glared, "Didn't you hear what I just said?" He huffed, "They will need time to recover, but in a short time, he should be back to his normal self."

"That wasn't what I was talking about." Hiiro glared, "His newtype abilities are one thing, but Quatre has completely shut down. He doesn't even respond to basic commands."

The round engineer frowned slightly at this and regarded his young charge for a moment. "Uh. . .yes. . . that's just part of the conditioning. . ."

"Is it irreversible?" Hiiro asked again.

H chuckled nervously, "I'm sure that this is temporary."

"For your sake, I hope you're correct." The Japanese pilot warned, sending a death glare.

H shifted uncomfortably, and muttered something in Arabic.

The blonde blinked slowly once. Twice. Then, with a slight groan, sat up.

"Quatre?" Hiiro asked, approaching. He lay a supportive hand on his friends shoulder.

"H-Hiiro?" He looked around, "Where's Trowa? Is he alright?"

"You don't remember?" The other boy frowned.

"Remember? Remember what?" The blonde shook his head confused, "Hiiro, where's Trowa!?"

"That's quite the personality." G quipped approaching, "Far from suitable for a soldier."

"Huh?" Quatre blinked, cringing away from the old man.

"Quatre." H said coldly.

"Nani?"

The Instructor began to rant in Arabic, gesturing wildly in the air. The small pilot nodded periodically, wincing at other times. Finally, the Man snapped something and backhanded the boy.

Hiiro looked like he was about to interfere, until Dr. J stopped him. "Matte, Hiiro." He ordered. Hiiro waited.

Quatre's demeanor changed. He climbed off the examination table and stood as tall as he could. His face had a stubborn defiance in it as he calmly replied in Arabic to whatever the Instructor had said.

"You stupid little brat!" H shouted angrily, switching back to the language that everyone understood, and moving to hit the boy again.

"Hn." Quatre grunted, blocking the blow and throwing the heavier man over his shoulder into the far wall. "You're the one that's being foolish." He said calmly, before turning and leaving the room.

Hiiro frowned, and then followed him.

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Once alone, the other engineers mocked their disgraced comrade. "He really told you off, didn't he?" G sneered.

"Shut up." H glared, picking himself off the floor.

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"Quatre. . ." Hiiro called after the boy as he quickened his pace. "Quatre, Matte!" The blonde broke into a jog. "Quatre!" He reached out and grabbed his friend's arm.

"Let go, Hiiro." The Arabian ordered, his voice low.

"What did he say to you?" the taller pilot asked, releasing the other boy's arm.

"It doesn't matter."

"It has you upset. It does matter." Hiiro crossed his arms over his chest.

Quatre sighed, "He's upset that I made him look like a fool. . . That I couldn't handle his perfect weapon. . . That I was too weak. . ."

"You're not weak, Quatre."

"Is it true?" He asked, not turning around. "Is Trowa. . .?"

"Trowa Barton's whereabouts are unknown." Hiiro replied, "He's probably dead."

Quatre swallowed hard, tears filling his eyes, but they did not fall. "A-And Zero?" he chocked out.

"In the hands of OZ."

Quatre turned, "We have to get it back." He said evenly. "OZ will never be able to control it and they will cause more damage then I ever did. It must be destroyed!"

"Hn." The Japanese pilot agreed. "It's on its way to the Earth."

"The Earth?" Quatre paled. "We have to stop them!"

"We could steal a shuttle and intercept them."

The blonde nodded in agreement, "Hai. . . as soon as possible?"

"Hn."

"Arigato, Hiiro."

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Duo groaned as he landed his new Deathscythe Hell on the back of an awaiting ship.

"OI!" A cheerful voice called up to him, as he climbed out of the cockpit, "Daijoubu ka?"

He grimaced slightly as he eyed the speaker. It was her. "I'm fine." He replied, mildly annoyed. The dark haired girl waited for him as he descended on the elevator. "Hilde, what are you doing here?"

"Offering you a ride." She grinned. "Did you destroy the lunar plant?"

A smirk crossed the braided boy's face, "OH, Yeah!"

"I'm glad." She gestured to the cockpit, "Back up soldiers will be arriving soon. You're Gundam doesn't look like it could stand to fight anymore right now. How `bout we make an escape?"

"Sounds good!" Duo readily agreed, "Let's get out of here!"

"If you want, you can hide out at my place for a bit." Hilde offered. "I work at a scrap yard, so you'd be able to repair your Gundam."

The braided boy scratched his head thoughtfully, "I appreciate the help, Hilde, but I gotta ask-Why?"

"I just living my life, believing in the path I've chosen." She flashed a smile. `My path just keeps coming back to you.'

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Duo demanded good naturally, "Let's get this show on the road!"

"Hai!"

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Wu Fei sighed wearily. "Nataku will reside in this Gundam too." He said with confidence. "We will continue to fight together until Treize is dead." He set a course towards L5. "The Elders will have to inspect this Altron. . . and I could use some time to think."

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"Daijoubu Ka?" Hiiro asked, not looking at his current partner as they flew towards the OZ transport that carried Wing Zero.

"Hai." Quatre responded. "I was just trying to calculate the possibilities of Trowa. . ." He paused, as his eyes teared. Stubbornly, he refused to allow them to fall. "The possibilities of Trowa surviving and still being alive. . ." He finally finished.

"Quatre. . ." The Japanese pilot frowned.

"I know." The blonde interrupted. "I know that I'm being foolish, and that I should just accept things for what they are. . . but. . ." He sighed, "I can't help but feel that he's still alive somewhere out there. . . I pray for it. . ." He shook his head, trying to keep the tears at bay. "He's strong. . .he's survived worse. . . and he's a Gundam pilot. . ."

"Just because we're Gundam pilot's doesn't mean that we are immortal." Hiiro pointed out.

"I know."

Hiiro frowned slightly, "You're going to have to cry for him sometime." He said.

"Perhaps." Quatre allowed, "But that time is not now."

"Hn."

They fell into silence. Each dwelling on their own thoughts. Hiiro on the mission, Quatre on a certain banged boy.

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To be continued. . .

A/N: I do hope that everyone enjoyed it. The next chapter will be out soon.

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Weissangel24