Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Don't Push Me Away ❯ It's Not Okay ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Nita-sama 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 10.31.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.0K | Visits: 366 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 10.31.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.0K | Visits: 366 | Status: Completed
Title: Don’t Push Me Away
Genre: alcohol abuse, rehab, angst, mental stuff, sap, tear jerker (if I write this right)
Pairing: 3x4
Summary: After his father’s death, Quatre begins to have a downward spiral in health both mentally and physically.
Chapter 3: It's Not Okay
Trowa left soon after his discussion with Rashid. The mission plan called for him to get to Quatre before addiction set in. Before the young Arabian did any irreversible damage to himself. The thought of the golden haired youth drowning himself in alcohol made his chest tighten and his resolve that much stronger. He’d seen too many mercenaries leave this world to stand by and let his friend succumb to that fate. He’d stop it before it started.
He reached Quatre’s estate within thirty minutes. It was a three story high ‘house’ with fountains, hedges, and a grand sized pool in the back. The ex-mercenary took no notice to any of it. His mind was preoccupied with the estate’s owner.
Emerald eyes looked up to where he knew Quatre’s sleeping chambers were. He was met with the ghostly form of his comrade. The boy stared out with overly dilated eyes obviously in a alcohol induced fix.
Trowa’s chest lurched. The sight of his friend drunken bedraggled form spurring him into action. He let himself in with the extra key Quatre kept hidden in one those fake ‘rock’ things kept that didn’t really look like a real rock at all.
The house was littered with empty bottles of nameless and name brand bottles scattered here and there.
The tall sinewy pilot was a grim shadow as he moved across the carpeted halls purposely avoiding the bottles. His eyes flared angrily though his eyes gave away no emotion at all. Who ever sold Quatre the merchandise was going to pay dearly.
He stalked angrily up the stairs finally coming to see the designated room. What he saw there made his whole body shake momentarily with fear. For a split second he was frozen in place at the sight of Quatre opening the rather large window and stepping onto the window sill. That second gave the blonde time to slip halfway through with afternoon winds whipping his blonde tresses around.
“Quatre!” The initial shock wore off giving way to a good dose of needed adrenaline. Trowa moved quickly up the last of the steps and into the room. He made it in time to grab the smaller teen around the waist. His abdomen connected harshly against the window sill as Quatre’s weight pulled him half way through the window.
“Let go! Let go!” Quatre struggled in Trowa’s arms. His bloodshot eyes were glassy with tears and lacking any coherent thoughts. “Let go! He said it was okay!”
“Who told you?!” Trowa yelled back down. He grunted and pulled even as the other teen tried to twist in his grip. When he had his footing again, he finally pulled himself and Quatre all the way in. His heart hammered in his chest almost painfully but that didn’t stop him from getting the blonde youth stable on his feet and slapping him across his alabaster face.
Quatre blinked owlishly up at the stoic teen seeing several emotions flash through the usually indifferent eyes. His hand rose unconsciously to the reddening place on his cheek. The initial sting of the blow had faded to a burning sensation. He managed a squeak before Trowa began to shake him by the shoulders.
“Who the fuck told you it was okay to kill yourself?!” Trowa shouted. “Who the fuck told you it was alright to drown your sorrows in alcohol? What happened to coming to friends and loved ones? You’re the person that taught me to confide in friends! What the fuck makes what you said worth trusting if you can’t follow your own fucking advice!!” He finally stopped panting with the well of emotion the tirade had bought about. //Who the fuck told you it was okay for you to die and leave me alone?//
Quatre lowered his head in a jerking motion whimpering at the words spilling from the taller youth’s lips. If he was in the right state of mind he might have been able to answer. He settled for making a mad dash to the bathroom and emptying his insides.
Trowa followed after him but didn’t offer any comfort. How could he comfort the petite boy and tell him it was okay if it wasn’t? It wasn’t okay for him to be doing this to himself. To his friends. If Heero, Duo or Wufei had found about this, they’d drop everything they were doing just to make sure the Arabian got proper treatment.
When the heaves stopped he pushed from where he leaned on the door jamb and fished out a face towel from somewhere then wet it. He pressed it gently to Quatre’s forehead then to the back of his neck. All the while, he was trying to think of the best way to handle the situation.
What would he do if Quatre refused his help?
Should he be gentle or try for ‘tough love’?
He was bought out of his contemplations by Quatre’s shaking forms. It took a half a second to realize the boy was crying. “I’m going to help you get through this, Quatre.” He vowed as the sobs became violent. He took the boy in his arms rocked him as if he were a child. “We’ll get through this together.”
TBC……
A/ N: Umm….attempted suicide? Where did that come from? Oops, sorry. What do you think? Let me know. Ja!
R&R
Genre: alcohol abuse, rehab, angst, mental stuff, sap, tear jerker (if I write this right)
Pairing: 3x4
Summary: After his father’s death, Quatre begins to have a downward spiral in health both mentally and physically.
Chapter 3: It's Not Okay
Trowa left soon after his discussion with Rashid. The mission plan called for him to get to Quatre before addiction set in. Before the young Arabian did any irreversible damage to himself. The thought of the golden haired youth drowning himself in alcohol made his chest tighten and his resolve that much stronger. He’d seen too many mercenaries leave this world to stand by and let his friend succumb to that fate. He’d stop it before it started.
He reached Quatre’s estate within thirty minutes. It was a three story high ‘house’ with fountains, hedges, and a grand sized pool in the back. The ex-mercenary took no notice to any of it. His mind was preoccupied with the estate’s owner.
Emerald eyes looked up to where he knew Quatre’s sleeping chambers were. He was met with the ghostly form of his comrade. The boy stared out with overly dilated eyes obviously in a alcohol induced fix.
Trowa’s chest lurched. The sight of his friend drunken bedraggled form spurring him into action. He let himself in with the extra key Quatre kept hidden in one those fake ‘rock’ things kept that didn’t really look like a real rock at all.
The house was littered with empty bottles of nameless and name brand bottles scattered here and there.
The tall sinewy pilot was a grim shadow as he moved across the carpeted halls purposely avoiding the bottles. His eyes flared angrily though his eyes gave away no emotion at all. Who ever sold Quatre the merchandise was going to pay dearly.
He stalked angrily up the stairs finally coming to see the designated room. What he saw there made his whole body shake momentarily with fear. For a split second he was frozen in place at the sight of Quatre opening the rather large window and stepping onto the window sill. That second gave the blonde time to slip halfway through with afternoon winds whipping his blonde tresses around.
“Quatre!” The initial shock wore off giving way to a good dose of needed adrenaline. Trowa moved quickly up the last of the steps and into the room. He made it in time to grab the smaller teen around the waist. His abdomen connected harshly against the window sill as Quatre’s weight pulled him half way through the window.
“Let go! Let go!” Quatre struggled in Trowa’s arms. His bloodshot eyes were glassy with tears and lacking any coherent thoughts. “Let go! He said it was okay!”
“Who told you?!” Trowa yelled back down. He grunted and pulled even as the other teen tried to twist in his grip. When he had his footing again, he finally pulled himself and Quatre all the way in. His heart hammered in his chest almost painfully but that didn’t stop him from getting the blonde youth stable on his feet and slapping him across his alabaster face.
Quatre blinked owlishly up at the stoic teen seeing several emotions flash through the usually indifferent eyes. His hand rose unconsciously to the reddening place on his cheek. The initial sting of the blow had faded to a burning sensation. He managed a squeak before Trowa began to shake him by the shoulders.
“Who the fuck told you it was okay to kill yourself?!” Trowa shouted. “Who the fuck told you it was alright to drown your sorrows in alcohol? What happened to coming to friends and loved ones? You’re the person that taught me to confide in friends! What the fuck makes what you said worth trusting if you can’t follow your own fucking advice!!” He finally stopped panting with the well of emotion the tirade had bought about. //Who the fuck told you it was okay for you to die and leave me alone?//
Quatre lowered his head in a jerking motion whimpering at the words spilling from the taller youth’s lips. If he was in the right state of mind he might have been able to answer. He settled for making a mad dash to the bathroom and emptying his insides.
Trowa followed after him but didn’t offer any comfort. How could he comfort the petite boy and tell him it was okay if it wasn’t? It wasn’t okay for him to be doing this to himself. To his friends. If Heero, Duo or Wufei had found about this, they’d drop everything they were doing just to make sure the Arabian got proper treatment.
When the heaves stopped he pushed from where he leaned on the door jamb and fished out a face towel from somewhere then wet it. He pressed it gently to Quatre’s forehead then to the back of his neck. All the while, he was trying to think of the best way to handle the situation.
What would he do if Quatre refused his help?
Should he be gentle or try for ‘tough love’?
He was bought out of his contemplations by Quatre’s shaking forms. It took a half a second to realize the boy was crying. “I’m going to help you get through this, Quatre.” He vowed as the sobs became violent. He took the boy in his arms rocked him as if he were a child. “We’ll get through this together.”
TBC……
A/ N: Umm….attempted suicide? Where did that come from? Oops, sorry. What do you think? Let me know. Ja!
R&R