Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ F.E.A.R ❯ Chapter 3

Title: F.E.A.R

 

Genre: gore, horror, blood, violence, language, lemon, lime, death (none of the guys), angst, police, supernatural.

 

Pairing: 1x2, 3x4, 5xS, (later) 5x6, RxH, UxD, OCxS

 

Rating: X

 

Disclaimers: I do not own Gundam Wing or the following computer games: Doom3, Painkiller: Heaven's Got A Hitman, or F.E.A.R.

Summary: AC 190, a mysterious paramilitary force infiltrates a multi-billion dollar aerospace compound, taking hostages but issuing no demands. A Special Forces team is sent by the government only to be obliterated. Live footage of the massacre shows an inexplicable wave of destruction tearing the solders apart. In an act of desperation, a team of unknowing young teens are assembled to form the First Encounter Assault Recon (F.E.A.R).

 

 

Chapter 3

 

Une climbed to her feet shakily still staring at the spot the girl had been just a few minutes ago. Out of caution and instinct, she reached for the revolver at her hip. She didn't remove the safety however. Once she was on her feet, she approached the backseat of her car slowly. She looked inside slowly finding a single box open. Cautiously, she reached in and grabbed it mindful of the broken glass.

 

She closed the box as she pulled it out. `Michael Maxwell' could be read in gold along the top of the top. The rest was smudge and blurred with a small bloody handprint. With a frown, Une opened the box carefully. All of the metals were where they belonged. The only thing different was the beaten up locket placed inside. She picked it up slowly looking it over. It was freshly polished with only a few dents.

 

Une frowned slightly at the jewelry before putting it back into the box. She closed it carefully and put in the front of her car in the passenger seat. She'd have to get it polished again. She climbed warily into the driver's side. She gripped the steering wheel tightly. She took deep breaths to release the stress forming through her body. She closed the car door and pressed the gas. She checked her rearview mirror one last time. Relief filled her when she found her backseat empty. She looked from her backseat to the road behind her.

 

The relief she felt turned into the bone chilling fear when she saw the same little girl standing where she had just been. She was a dark ominous presence, unmoving. The shadows over her face had moved enough that a single hazel eye could be seen.

 

Une pressed the car to go faster. Soon she was doing sixty in a thirty five speed zone. She didn't plan on stopping, deer be damned. She continued until she reached the road that she was supposed to turn onto. Luckily this was paved enough to not make the car jump so much.

 

The Barton family's house wasn't anything extravagant but nothing she'd label as rundown. It was homey and modest.

 

Une looked through the boxes carefully from the front seat. She found the one labeled Trowa Barton and tucked it at her side as she got out. She checked herself quickly. One of her stockings were torn at the knee, the cut no her cheek was still bleeding and she was slightly pale. She wiped quickly at the cut. She could remove the stockings later.

 

She walked to the front door and rang the doorbell.

 

An elderly man with harsh blue eyes answered the door. He was only a few centimeters taller than Une but managed to act as if he were a giant.

 

“Derkim Barton?” She asked in her best professional voice. She congratulated herself at how steady her voice came.

”Yes, can I help you?” He said. His voice was anything but friendly.

 

Une presented the box without a world. The man's eyes focused on the box reluctantly. He read it over three times before sighing shakily. He took the box without a world. “Thank you.”

 

“There will be a grant issued within a few—“

 

“I said thank,” With that the man closed the door soundly. Une let her eyes fall to her now scuffed pumps. Maybe she should turn around and quit. She turned sharply on her feet and marched back to her car. She didn't check for the girl when she got in. She drove taking the alternative route back into town.

--

Harsh eyes watched as the car pulled off. When it was completely out of view they turned away staring down at the box being held by elderly hands. “My son, your sacrifice will not go without recognition.” The soft voice murmured. “I'll bring you back somehow.”

--

Une found the next house within ten minutes from the last house. She removed her stockings before climbing out. The chilly spring breeze rose goosebumps on her creamy legs as she stepped out. She stared up at the Chang residence before going to their front door. She rang the doorbell.

 

A woman no taller than five-four answered the door. She was petite and heavy with child. The cream maternity blouse she wore bulged with her stomach. She looked up at Une with cool onyx eyes. Her jet black hair framed her face.

 

Une's heart sunk as she took in the woman's pregnant state. She couldn't have been more than five months along. “Chang Marien?”

 

Marien nodded. “Hello, would you like to come in?” Une declined politely. “How may I help you then?”

 

Une presented the box as she often did. She watched as sadness flood the young woman's face. Surprisingly, no tears fell. When she spoke her voice was steady. “His sacrifice was a noble one. However I cannot accept those metals.” She shook her head. Finally a single tear escaped her. She took no heed of it. “I have…dishonored him…” She said waving a hand to her engorged stomach. “I have dishonored our marriage. I carry my sin.”

 

“I'm sure he'd still want you to have this.” Une reasoned.

 

“I cannot, I'm sorry…for more than I can count.” The smaller woman said. “He has a close friend that was family to him. Her name is Victoria Po. Give it to her. She is more than worthy to hold his memories than I.”

 

Une only nodded not sure what to say to comfort the raw hurt and guilt in the woman's gaze. “Sorry for your loss.” She said as she stepped away from the door. The woman only nodded waiting until Une was almost to her car to close the door.

 

The box of Lee Chang was placed beside Maxwell's. Une left the house for the next. She found herself at the Winner's house. She knew this family personally having dated one of their twenty nine daughters. She smiled faintly at the memory of their good times. They hadn't parted on bad terms. They loved each other but more like sisters. She climbed out of the car and went to their door.

 

To her surprise, Iria, her ex, answered the door. Iria was five-five to Une's five-six. Their height was perfect in their opinion. Iria had long golden hair that fell to the small of her back. It had been cut short around her face so that her creamy tanned face could be seen. Her face was round giving her a delicate look. Her eyes were wide aquamarine. She looked angelic like all her other sisters.

She was dressed in a white short pleated skirt and white collared shirt. She had on a pair of white tennis shoes to match and a white headband. Probably playing tennis again. It was her favorite pastime.

 

Her eyes lit up at the sight of Une. She threw her arms around the woman's neck making them both spin. Une grunted in surprised as the other woman pressed her lips to hers. It was a chaste closed mouth kiss lasting only a second.

 

“Une-dear, how have you been?” Iria asked happily. She took in the woman's appearance. Her brow furrowed at the woman's worn look. Her eyes caught the scabbing cut on her cheek. “Oh dear, your face! Let's get that cleaned up. Don't want to scar your pretty face.” She said taking Une's hand.

Une went along silently still gripping Maria Winner's box in hand. She sat quickly on the beige sofa of their living room. Their house was nothing short of a mansion. From experience, Une knew that this was `small' compared to the other homes the Winners had.

 

Iria left calling out to her mother and father before going to fetch the first aid kit.

 

Mr. and Mrs. Winner came in shortly after. Both were small people. Mr. Winner had dark blonde hair and wide dark blue eyes. His features were always grim even as he smiled in greeting to his almost daughter-in-law as he like to joke. He was dressed in a pair of pale khakis and a matching shirt. He gave Une a hug before taking a seat across from him.

 

Mrs. Winner, the ninth Mrs. Winner to be exact, had bride blonde hair bordering on platinum that she kept in a short bob. Her eyes were a paler blue than her husband. She wore an outfit similar to Iria. She gave Une a hug as well before taking seat beside her husband.

Iria came in then with the large white first aid box in hand. She placed it on the coffee table just in front of where Une sat. She took two alcohol pads and a bandage out before sitting beside the taller woman. “Look this way.” She instructed. Une did as she was told. Iria put her hands on either side of her face bringing her face intimately close. Neither was the least bit uncomfortable about this face.

Une winced when the alcohol swab was pressed to the cut. The scab that had formed gave way. She sighed at the stinging sensation. Iria used the second swab quickly before finally placing a bandage over the cut.

”There,” She said proudly. “Now what brings you here?” She asked eying the box Une was unconsciously trying to hide.

 

Une bowed her head and placed the box in her hand so that all three could read it clearly. She waited in growing apprehension for a reaction of some kind.

 

“Oh, Une…” Iria sobbed. Une had enough time to place the box on the coffee table before Iria threw herself at her. She caught her easily and held her. She looked over to see that Mrs. Winner had her face turned and her hand over her mouth. Mr. Winner had turned to her attempting to comfort her. Une sat listening to their mourning silently. Her arms tightened around Iria.

 

“I'm sorry,” She said for the umpteenth time.

 

“You shouldn't be, you didn't kill her.” Iria sobbed into her uniform. She pulled back and wiped the back of her hand over her eyes.

 

“I'm sorry that I have to come and bare so much bad news…” Une muttered. “I don't see you in months and when I finally do it's to tell you that your loved one is…” She stopped feeling a lump form in her throat. She hadn't known Maria enough to mourn her. She did mourn the fact that she had to be the one to tell of her death.

 

Iria kissed her soundly on the lips and hugged her. Une pulled her into her lap and held her close. How she wished it was Dorothy she was holding instead. For now, this was the only comfort was going allow herself. She let her tears fall along with all her regrets. She could only imagine what other reactions she would get. Next was the Odin/Yuy family. How was she going to tell them? How was she going to tell the other family? Especially the Maxwells. She had gone to school with all of them. They hadn't kept in touch but it would still hurt her to see their faces.

 

 

 

TBC……

 

A/N: Wow, now I'm depressed. I've never wrote a continuation like this with all the mourning. Damn. I almost cried writing this one in particular. Review and let me you're still reading….