Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Less Than Dirt ❯ Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I think it is too obvious for me to bother and say it, but still: I don't own them.

WARNING: Eventual 2x1. Angst, blood, het pairing (but not for long!). Might be a little OOC.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Strangely enough, this fic came to me while I was standing in line for the shooting grounds, during my basic training. You can say that my training inspired this fic, in a way, and though it isn't that clear, you might be able to see the evidence of it through the fic.

Enjoy the fic (I hope!)

Naomi

LESS THAN DIRT

PART 1

* * *

When I was a little boy, I found a shiny plastic toy in the gutter. I kept it hidden in my small room, so no one would know. It was my treasure, my one and only possession in the world. It was the dearest thing to my young heart, and the only thing I loved about this world. It was just a cheap, discarded, used, toy. Just like me. And I loved it for it. I held it under my pillow as I slept and I played with it when no one could see. It made my fingers dirty but I didn't care. I was filthy as it is.

They found it after a while, and they punished me for having it. They threw it away. I was not allowed to have such things. I was not allowed to keep my treasure. "It's dirty!" They said. "Throw it away!" I didn't want to, so they hit me. They hit me and then threw it away.

No one wants to keep dirt. Dirt is meant to be thrown away. Even if there's something really shiny and nice under it. You can't have dirt around you. You just can't. It always gets thrown away. Just like me. I'm dirt. Soldier Dirt.

* * *

A hot desert wind blew strongly, carrying dust and dried leaves along with it. The golden leaves spiraled and whirled, dancing wildly around each other as the wind grew stronger. Trees rattled against the storm, branches quarrelling with one another. The distant roar of thunder rolled from afar, and electricity was in the air. It was hot and humid, and once in a while a few fat and warm droplets of rain fell to the ground. Thick and large clouds trailed up in the dark heavens, hiding what little light the evening skies had to offer. Darkens fell over the land, and within the nighttime silence, only the rattling of trees and the whining of the wind could be heard.

On a small and rocky hill, tall grass moved like waves upon the ocean, swinging back and forth under the strong breeze. A few tall bushes were fighting their way out of the rocky surface, peeking out from between large boulders. The sharp boulders were covered with mud and dirt that was gathered within the cracks, offering some room for more plant life to grow. The soil was hard and dry, and the poor vegetation consisted mostly of bushes and thorns. The desert-like plants, though poor in looks and beauty, were enough to offer a decent shelter within the undergrowth. Combined with the large rocks and the darkness of the night, it was hard to make out the two lone figures lying on the dry earth. The two figures, all dressed in black and well-hidden from plain sight, were lying silently on the ground, listening to the wind and watching a narrow gravel road that climbed up the hills ahead.

The summer storm grew harsher and the wind blew harder. Dust flew into their eyes as the breeze tousled their hair wildly. Duo Maxwell frowned as a warm drop of rain fell on his nose. He wanted to sneeze, or at least wipe it away, but he knew that he was not allowed. Any unnecessary movement can attract the enemy's attention. He wrinkled his nose in an attempt to wipe the annoyance away, but had no such luck. Sighing silently to himself, he relaxed his muscles again and went back to his previous position. He had been lying like this for almost four hours. His left leg was straddled in a 45° angle to the left, while his right leg was lying straight. His upper body was supported by his elbows, which were positioned securely on the ground. In his hands, and also supported by his right cheek and shoulder, was a large rifle, aimed down at the gravel road. His gaze was always looking through the sight, waiting to take aim.

All in all, it was a regular, boring, ambush. Duo sighed and hung his head ever so slightly. He hated ambushes.

"Stop fidgeting all the time." A low whisper came from his left, and Duo rolled his eyes. He couldn't understand how Heero could sense that he was moving, even if it was only a slight movement of his face muscles, in this darkness, while he was obviously watching the road. Did he have eyes in the side of his head or what?!

Sighing again, Duo bit his lower lip to keep himself from responding "kindly" to Heero. He knew that it won't do much help, and he will be rebuked for speaking. Ambushes were the ONLY situations when Duo Maxwell held himself from talking back. The last thing he wanted was to be a risk to Heero and himself. He just had to wait until the mission is done, and then he will tell Heero EVERYTHING that he held back during this night. EVERYTHING! Duo Maxwell will NOT go down quietly!

"Stop smirking like a baka." The same voice whispered again and Duo wanted to whimper in frustration. How come Heero was allowed to speak and he wasn't?! He could whisper too! Why was Heero allowed to whisper and he couldn't?! How come?!

He was about to open his mouth and complain, when Heero's voice beat him to it.

"Don't even think about it, baka. Keep quiet."

If he were a cartoon character, he would have steam coming out of his ears by now. Instead, he had dust stinging his eyes, dirt in his hair and dry soil in his clothes and shoes. He was drenched in sweat and reeking after three days without a shower. He felt hot and dirty, and he would have killed for a nice, long shower and a bottle of shampoo. His hair felt like straw and he didn't even want to know how many layers of dirt and dust were covering his skin. It's not like he was a spoiled little boy who wanted his shower, milk and cookies everyday, but he sure hated feeling like that.

"Like one huge dust-ball..." He muttered bitterly, smirking slightly as he imagined himself as one of those tumbleweeds that wander the deserted streets in those old Westerns. He giggled silently to himself. Heck, even thorny old tumbleweeds were cleaner than he was right now!

He quickly glanced towards Heero, just to make sure that the boy hasn't heard him. He breathed in relief when he saw that his giggling went unheard. He sighed and looked back towards the road, resisting the urge to brush away the stubborn hairs the wind kept blowing into his face. He should really get a haircut. Or at least... just snap off those long bangs! He could barely see the rifle's sights! How can he ever take aim like that?! He wondered how Heero managed to have such a perfect aim with all that hair of his getting in the way.

"Movement at three o' clock." Heero's whisper tore Duo out of his musings. Without moving his head too much, he turned to look at the direction Heero had mentioned. He couldn't help but smirk as move his finger carefully towards the trigger. His other hand smoothly turned the selector, changing it from SAFE to AUTO. He pulled the charging handle quickly and his smirk grew. Finally some action!

* * *

"Fuck!" Duo cursed as he threw one magazine aside and quickly loaded another. He punched the bolt catcher quickly and hurried to take position again. "God damn it! Heero! Where are you!?" He screamed as his finger squeezed the trigger, letting out a long stream of bullets. "Die you fuck!" He roared as one bullet after another shot out of the barrel, cartridges falling on the ground like rain. Soon enough, another magazine was emptied, and a few more Ozzies were lying dead on the ground. The problem was, that about a dozen more came running towards him.

"Shit! God damn it! Heero! Get your ass down here! I need more ammo! Fuck!" Duo cursed loudly as he prepped his weapon once more, securing another magazine and then pressing hard on the bolt catcher. After he heard the loud CLICK! he quickly took aim and pulled the trigger. Sparks flashed in the dead of the night as the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air. It felt like it was burning his nostrils, but that was a minor detail compared to the aching feeling of his arm and shoulders after holding up the weapon for so long.

How can one simple ambush go so terribly wrong?!

One minute they were watching the convoy of jeeps and vans making their way slowly up the hills, and the next thing they knew, alarms were ringing and all of Hell broke loose. Somehow they were spotted, or even more likely- there was an information leak and OZ already knew what was expecting them. Whichever the case, it was irrelevant now. What was important was that they would get out of there alive. They split up in the beginning of the fight, each of them taking on a large group of Ozzies. Heero was fighting up hill, while Duo was on the road, preventing the soldiers from going up. He took shelter behind a large van and now he was stranded there, unable to move to another position or he will be fired upon. He had only a few more magazines left, and a whole lot of Ozzies to take down. He won't make it if he won't get his hands on more ammo.

"There's one more up the hill! Send some more men up there!" A soldier, probably an OZ commander, shouted and Duo sneered silently. Heero must be giving them a really hard time if they're sending more troops up there. That meant that they'd be less Ozzies on his back, he realized as he cocked his weapon one last time. He then also realized that it also meant that Heero was in an even greater danger. His hands moved quicker and pulled the charging handle swiftly. He had to get up there as soon as possible!

"ARGHHH!!!!!!" He screamed as he ran out of his hiding, shooting at anything and anyone who stood in his way. It was pure luck that none of the bullets aimed at him actually hit, and he didn't stop to count how many soldiers, if any, he managed to take down. The most important thing right now was to get up there and help his comrade.

"I'm coming buddy!" He shouted as he ran up hill, running backwards so that his aim was still on the soldiers below. He counted on Heero keep the "up-hill soldiers" off his back.

"Damn you!" A "down-hill soldier" cursed as he launched after Duo, his rifle aimed at the young teen. "You won't get away from me so easily! DEATH TO THE COLONIES!!!!!" He roared as he fired, each bullet launching out of the barrel with a loud BANG!

Panicked, Duo threw himself to the ground, crashing down on his right side while holding the rifle up so it won't hit the ground as well. The last thing he needed right now was getting dirt into his weapon and jamming it. He rolled over quickly, and while still in motion, he reached a hand into his backpack and pulled out a grenade. Smirking, he released the safety-catch with his teeth and threw the grenade down to the road. He covered his head and waited until the explosion was over. A few screams of extreme pain echoed from downhill, but Duo ignored them and jumped up to his feet. Securing his weapon in his grasp, he continued running.

The wind blew stronger, blowing dust and sand into his eyes. He resisted the urge to close them as he felt tears flood his eyes. His hair was coming loose of his braid and flying wildly under the wind. It got into his eyes as well, obscuring his vision. He tried his best to tuck the hair behind his ears as he ran, but it did him little good. He gave up on that and concentrated on running faster. The sounds of battle from the road below might have died out after he threw the grenade, but fighting was still going on up-hill.

* * *

Blood is a lot like dirt. When it stains your clothes or your skin, it's really hard to get rid of. When blood and dirt get mixed together, it's a really bad thing. People get even angrier then. Dirt is not supposed to get blood on it. It's trained so it will never have to be stained with blood. Dirt isn't even supposed to have blood! And yet... when dirt bleeds... no one cares. They might get angry when it bleeds, but no one really cares. Why should they care? It's only dirt. If dirt bleeds than it means that it's injured. If it's injured, it might die and then... then it will go away. No one likes dirt, so it's better if it will just die and go away.

When dirt bleeds... everyone is happy because it means that it will go away. No one cares that even dirt feels pain. It's not important because dirt is not important. Besides, it shouldn't feel pain. Dirt is not allowed to feel. Dirt can't feel, it's just dirt. It's just supposed to go away... it's just supposed to get thrown away. When you shoot dirt... it bleeds and goes away. It's the best way to get rid of dirt.

Dirt should bleed so it will go away. It's the best way to get rid of dirt.

* * *

"HEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"

When he reached the top of the hill, the fighting had died down. A frightening silence surrounded the barren landscape, and everything was still. Even the trees had ceased moving, after the wind had finally died down. The place had the eerie feeling of a graveyard, and in a way, it was no less than a blood-soaked cemetery.

As he walked between the dead bodies that covered the hill, Duo's face paled drastically. Not one man was left standing. The stanch of gunpowder and blood was in the air. It felt as if the air was too heavy to breathe. It was too thick and hot to inhale, and Duo felt nauseous with every breath. He resisted the urge to vomit as he accidentally stepped on a dead soldier's body, and by instinct, he turned to look at his face and apologize. A pair of glazed and dead eyes, wide with shock and pain, looked up at him as if in horror. The soldier's mouth was still open wide, locked in an endless scream. Duo could swear that he was able to hear his voice, shouting in pain as the bullets tore his flesh and entered his body. Blood soaked the earth around the body, and the once dry soil was now drenched with blood. Duo gasped in horror as he realized the he was standing in a puddle of crimson fluid and hurried to jump back. But it was too late. The life-blood was already staining his boots.

"HEEEEEEERRRRRROOOOOO!!!!!!!!!" He whirled around and screamed, panic cursing through his veins. "HEERO- ANSWER ME! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

A low and painful moan answered his desperate call, and the young Gundam pilot hurried to follow the sound. "Heero?" He called out again, his voice fainter than before after seeing so many dead bodies on the way. He had no choice but to look at each and every one of the dead young men as he ran, trying to spot Heero between the sea of bodies. "Heero! Where are you!? Call out again! I can't find you!" His voice was hoarse and hysteric by now. He couldn't bear the thought of Heero lying bleeding and helpless within this sea of blood and death. He just couldn't.

From within the still bodies and the smoke-raising barrels, a slow movement suddenly caught Duo's eyes. His eyes widened in what could have been joy, and he hurried to run towards the source of movement. He could see a hand struggling to rise up from underneath a heavy body, and he was now certain that he had found his comrade. When he reached the figure, the only sign of life in the dead battlefield, he saw that he was lying underneath a dead OZ soldier. With frantic movements, Duo hurried to drag the dead body away and then quickly turned back to Heero.

A large pair of horror-filled eyes stared back at him, and a face that was too pale and too ill looking was now revealed to him. Blood was running out of his mouth and his entire torso was filled with bullet holes. But it was not Heero's face. It was not Heero he had just come to rescue. It was an Ozzie, lying half dead on the ground, begging for his aid. A soldier that Heero just shot was begging for his help.

"Shit..." Duo cursed, looking down at the soldier with apologetic eyes. He had no idea what to do, but he did know that he wanted to find Heero. He had enough medical supplies on him for one, and he didn't want to waste them. But then again... he had sworn to protect, and it was his responsibility to see that anyone who needed medical attention, whether an enemy or a comrade, will get it. As long as the soldier was not aiming a weapon at him, he did not count as a threat. He was obligated to treat him.

"Fuck..." Duo cursed again, feeling as if he was running out of time. Heero was still lying here somewhere... bleeding or even dead... he must find him!

"I'll come back for you later! I swear!" He blurted out, hurrying to look away from the pleading pair of eyes. "Just hang on!" He called out as he ran, anxious to get away from that awful situation and just forget what he had seen. Running in the field of dead bodies, Duo narrowed his eyes and began to scan each and every face, begging and praying to God that he will find his comrade.

After a long while of searching, he spotted a body lying about three or four meters away from the rest of the bodies. It was isolated from the rest, and therefore it drew Duo's attention. It was smaller than the rest of the corpses, looking like a discarded rag-doll lying sprawled on the ground. Duo's heart began beating even faster, fear and hope all mixed in one, painful, heartbeat. The body was lying deathly still, looking no different than any other corpse. Swallowing hard, Duo forced his aching feet to run faster, stumbling past large boulders and thorny bushes in order to get to the body.

"... Heero..?" He breathed as he threw himself at the figure's side, his blood-shot eyes scanning the figure carefully. It didn't take him long to recognize the still figure as his comrade, lying unconscious on the dry ground. His face was covered with dirt that clung onto the camouflage paint that covered his features. His sweat-soaked bangs were plastered to his forehead, some chocolate hairs obscuring his closed eyes. His mouth was slightly open, blood trickling at the edges and sliding down to his chin.

A shudder went down Duo's spine as he forced himself to bend down, checking for breath. He positioned his ear above Heero's mouth, trying to detect the sound of breathing. His gaze was fixed on Heero's chest, searching for a sign of movement. He was relived to feel, see and hear Heero breathing, and he allowed himself a silent breath of relief. He quickly rose up and tried to nudge Heero awake, in order to check for a state of consciousness.

"Heero, c'mon, wake up. Wake up, man. C'mon. Enough dozing. Wake up." He shook him gently and called out to him, urging the boy to awake. "Heero, I'm not kidding. You better wake up or I'll..." He was about to finish the sentence when he heard a low gurgling sound. He fell quiet immediately and looked down at Heero's face with expectant eyes. "Heero?" He whispered, feeling his heart race as he saw the boy's face twitch in pain. "Yeah, that's it Heero. C'mon- wake up."

Slowly, Heero's eyes fluttered open, a small hint of midnight blue peeking from behind heavy eyelids. The young pilot blinked once then twice, slowly coming to. Duo couldn't control his smile as he saw his friend regaining consciousness, a good sign that he was going to be all right.

Again he could hear Heero choking out something, as if trying to speak but unable to. He could see the boy struggle to take a deep breath, to clear his airways, and then finally he coughed, spitting out some blood.

"Shit." Duo cursed, his features miserable and troubled as he looked down at the small amount of blood Heero just sputtered. He turned back to look into Heero's glazed eyes, noting that the boy was on the verge of fainting again. "Heero, look at me. Tell me where you were hit." He spoke slowly, wishing to both keep Heero awake, and wanting to save time by having Heero tell him where he was shot instead of having to search for the wound.

When he saw that Heero hadn't quite registered his question, merely staring at him blankly, he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and tried again. "Heero, I need you to tell me where you were hit so I can treat you." He said, looking into the injured pilot's eyes. "Where does it hurt, Heero?"

Again that awful choking sound came from Heero's throat, and Duo already noted the possibility that he had a pierced lung. He watched breathlessly as Heero moved his mouth, trying to form words but no sound came out. He could see Heero's fists clench tightly as his face contracted in pain. He gave up on waiting and began a search for the wound himself.

"D-Duo..." Heero suddenly croaked, his voice weak and groggy.

"Yeah, buddy?" Duo whispered back, taking his comrade's hand in his and squeezing it tight. "I'm here with ya, buddy. Tell me where it hurts." He repeated the question, his own voice faltering at the sight of Heero's pain-glazed eyes. Those striking blue eyes stared at him for what seemed like a lifetime, looking at him with a weary, yet piercing, gaze. He was beginning to wonder what Heero was seeing that intrigued him so badly, but then he noted the tears in Heero's eyes and his heart nearly came to a stop.

Heero's midnight blue eyes were flooded with tears, their gaze so terribly sad and sorrowful, that it made Duo's chest contract in pain. He was unable to breathe, or to move, as Heero reached one trembling hand towards him. The Japanese pilot was unable to raise his hand high enough, and it dropped lifelessly to the ground. Still, he kept looking at Duo with those pain-filled and remorseful eyes; tears sliding down the side of his head and into his ears.

"Duo..." He breathed weakly, tilting his head aside in sorrow. Duo's own eyes filled with tears at the sound of his voice and the honest sorrow that was seen in his eyes. He held his breath as he saw Heero's lips move again, and he bent forward so he could hear him better.

"What is it, Heero?" He whispered, nearly crying. He had no idea why Heero was acting so strange, but he assumed that it was the shock and the lose of blood. In any case, he was dying to hear what the boy was about to say, thinking that it will shed some light on the mystery that was his partner, Heero Yuy.

His eyes slowly fluttering shut, about to close at any moment, Heero whispered sadly: "Your face is dirty........." With those words, Heero's eyes finally closed and his head tilted aside in unconsciousness.

For a few long moments Duo continued kneeling by his side, unmoving as a rock. He was still holding Heero's limp hand in his grasp, his features numb with shock. It took him three more seconds to snap out of the shock, telling himself that if he won't act fast, he might lose his partner. Incoherent speech was not a good sign and he should stop wasting his time by trying to understand what it means. Heero's words only meant one thing- he was losing a lot of blood and therefore he was not thinking straight. He had to find the wound and treat it as fast as possible.

Letting go of Heero's hand and quickly regaining his composure, Duo reached for the first aid kit that was in his backpack and quickly tore it open. He pulled out a few thick bandages, a pair of scissors and without any thought or hesitation he began cutting at Heero's clothes, searching for the bullet wound.

* * *

His hair is sometimes very dirty. It's very long and pretty, but sometimes it gets too much dirt in it. Does that mean he likes dirt..? But no one likes dirt... I don't like seeing him dirty... I don't like dirt either. No one should like it. Not even dirt itself.

Will he wash the dirt away like he always does..? Will he wash it away and make his hair all pretty again? Will it shine like it always does..? Will it be clean of dust and blood and... dirt? Will he wash the dirt away?

I hate seeing him dirty. He shouldn't be dirty. He just shouldn't. He should always be clean and pretty and pure. He should wash the dirt away... he should...

But... but... if he washes the dirt away...

...Oh please don't wash me away...

* * *

He found a nasty bullet wound in Heero's midsection, a few centimeters above the waist. By the bullet's entry angle, or so he could assume, it entered in such an angle that it must have pierced Heero's stomach or liver and probably continued up until it grazed his lung. He hoped that the bullet had stopped at the lung and hasn't entered it. At least that way, it was keeping the lung sealed, like a plug keeping it closed and allowing Heero to still breathe properly. He hurried to apply direct pressure on the wound with the aid of a large bandage, keeping the bleeding to a minimum. Though most of the bleeding must have been internal, for he could see a little amount of blood making it outside the wound.

Heero's consciousness came and went, but not once was he able to utter any coherent words. His body was shivering with shock, and Duo had to take off his jacket in order to cover the injured teen. Right now, Duo was struggling with his radio transmitter, only now taking the time to radio for help. He had done so before the fight broke out, when he realized that they were outnumbered and in a lot of trouble, but since he had to get downhill and fight, he didn't have the time to make sure that he got a response. Now he had to try again to make sure that he was heard. Heero needed medical attention ASAP and he was also running out of the strength to keep alert. He only suffered a few minor injuries while running and falling all over the place, but still- there was only so much he could take. He won't be able to protect Heero and himself if OZ will come for a second round.

When he was finally finished transmitting his SOS call, he noticed that Heero was awake once again, staring at him numbly. He forced himself to smile, not even wanting to imagine how horrible he looked right now. His smile probably came out awkward and out of place, and he felt stupid for even attempting to smile. But he couldn't think of anything proper to say, so smiling was his only option.

"Hey." He finally whispered as Heero just kept staring at him, looking at him with an unfocused pair of blue eyes. "Feeling better?" What a stupid question to ask! But then again... it was better than keeping silent. He couldn't bear the silence of a battlefield after the fight. It made him feel as if he too was one of the dead, lying still on the ground as the earth absorbed his lifeless blood.

The cobalt eyes blinked slowly and then continued staring at him. He wondered what Heero was thinking about, if at all. He kept looking at him all the time, silently examining his dirty features. He knew how filthy he was. He could feel the layers of dust clinging to the camouflage colors that painted his face. He could feel the long stray hairs that were plastered to his face and he knew that his braid was nearly falling apart, chestnut hairs tousled by the wind in every direction. His torn and messy black clothing were in no better shape. Heero was probably thinking that this is NOT how a soldier should look like.

He smirked at that thought and some glint of amusement appeared in his weary eyes. What else could Heero be thinking of if not soldiery stuff? That's all he ever cared about. Being a soldier, completing a mission... It's that line of thinking that brought him to this moment, lying bleeding in a dead battlefield after a long fight. He could die today, without ever knowing what it's like to live. That thought saddened Duo. He wondered why it even crossed his mind. He never gave Heero so much thought. He never bothered to try and see behind the soldier mask. He used to, at the beginning, but then, after a few months, he just stopped. He remained a friend and a comrade, but he didn't try to get under Heero's skin anymore. Why should he? It's not like he would find anything of importance. Heero will always remain Heero. Who was he to change that?

His heart was about to whisper the answer to his ignorant mind, but a low and sickening gurgling sound from Heero turned Duo's attention away from the silent whisper of his heart. He looked down at his fallen comrade, worry in his eyes.

"Heero, what is it?" He asked, leaning down towards the Japanese boy. "What's wrong?" He repeated, his eyes searching Heero's body for something he might have missed. But aside from some shallow scratches, probably where bullets have grazed his skin, there was no sign of further injury. He turned back to Heero and pushed a few sweaty bangs out of his eyes. He smiled softly at him, trying to look reassuring. "Don't worry, buddy, help is on the way. Just hang on."

But Heero didn't seem eased by that promise. Again he tried to speak, choking out meaningless sounds. He was shaking his head weakly from side to side, his eyes wide as if in fear and panic.

Duo frowned and leaned closer to Heero, trying to make out what he was attempting to say. His eyebrows drew near as he noticed that Heero's anxiety was only intensifying as he leaned closer, and the boy was looking very distressed by the time Duo was close enough to hear him out. He was shaking his head wildly, coughing out blood as he tried to speak. His eyes were large and haunted, the hint of fever, pain and fear glimmering in the ocean blue depths.

"Heero, what's wrong?" Duo tried again, his voice also bordering on hysteria. "What's wrong, Heero!? What's wrong!?"

"A-ABUNAI!!!" Heero finally manage to call out, raising his hand up as if he was trying to point at something. He was looking at something that was behind Duo, and the braided boy's eyes widened in realization. He whirled around just in time to see a blurry figure pointing a gun at him, and then a shot was fired.

The loud sound echoed hollowly through the dead battlefield, as if bouncing off invisible walls. Violet eyes widened in pain and shock, becoming glazed and unblinking as Duo's body slowly fell forward, collapsing on top of Heero. The Japanese boy jumped up in pain as Duo's heavy weight landed on top of his injured torso, and a silent cry of pain escaped his bloodied lips.

His numb blue eyes looked around frantically, searching. They stopped as they reached the figure that was now towering above him, pointing a pistol to his head. His mouth hung open in shock; more bloods leaking down of the edged of his mouth, after having Duo's weight on top of him sever his injury. His vision came in and out of focus, and black spots danced around his line of sight. His hand, if he was aware of it or not, was desperately searching the area around him, like a blind man feeling his way in the dark. His fingers contacted nothing but dirt, and tears of frustration filled his eyes. His gun was nowhere to be found.

A low chuckle came from the figure above him, and Heero's eyes quickly darted back to meet the eyes of the OZ soldier who just shot his partner. He couldn't make out the face, not exactly, and all he could see was the moonlight glimmering on the barrel of the gun aimed at him. By the way the solider was struggling to keep standing, Heero knew that he was also badly injured, and just barely keeping himself up. He was hugging his midsection with one hand, and his balance was obviously off for he was swinging from side to side.

"Heh... damn brat..." The soldier snarled in a voice full of malice and hate. "Suits you right..." He continued in his fevered voice, reaching a shaking leg to kick Duo's unconscious body.

Beneath Duo, Heero groaned in pain as the movement only aggravated his own injury. He turned to look at Duo, searching for a sign of life. The longhaired teen was lying with his face on the ground and his stomach pressed against Heero's. His braid was lying sprawled on his back, the tip of it tucked under Heero's chin. By the rise and fall of Duo's back, Heero could tell that he was still breathing. Relief washed over him, and then he saw another glimmer of light, right above Duo's waist. He just found Duo's pistol, tucked securely under his belt.

"Fucking colonists... damn Gundams..." The OZ soldier continued droning, kicking Duo's feet again. "So much for your 'I'll come back for you later' promise, huh, brat?! I came back for YOU!" He shouted and then let out a maniacal laughter, followed by a few deep and throaty coughs.

Noting that the Ozzie was too caught up in a fit of blood-sputtering coughs, Heero made his move. He forced his numb hand to snatch Duo's gun out of his belt and then his fingers automatically cocked the weapon. The soldier didn't even have the time to look up and blink before Heero emptied a whole clip into him, firing bullet after bullet just because he didn't have the strength to move his finger away from the trigger. As the soldier collapsed lifelessly to the ground, Heero's hand also dropped limply at his side, letting go of the pistol.

He was panting but yet his breathing was irregular. It was hard to breath and he could taste more blood in his mouth. Turning his gaze up at the heavens, Heero stared numbly at the stars and tried to calm his breathing. He forced himself to stop the coughing; somehow knowing that it will only worsen his condition.

The stars above him twinkled brightly, as if winking at him. To him it looked like they were just looking at him indifferently, uncaring of what was happening right before their eyes. There were so many of them... so bright and pure and so eternal. Their light will shine on forever. They were so much unlike him, and yet... He smiled sadly and turned to look at the boy lying on top of him. And yet, they were so much like Duo...

Coughing weakly, he raised a trembling hand and rested it gently on Duo's back, as if hugging him. He could feel the warm blood staining the back of Duo's shirt, and he could feel the boy shiver. He tried to draw him closer, he really did, but his strength had left him a long time ago. He just settled for lowering his head a little so he could look at Duo's face.

The beautiful elfin face was lying pressed against the dirt, more dust and thorns getting tangled in his lush chestnut hair. He had a nasty cut on his forehead, by his right temple, and it was staining his face with blood. Heero reached up a shaking hand to try and wipe the blood away. He used his own dirty and bloodied fingers in order to wipe the dirt, blood and camouflage paint away, but he only ended up adding more of his own filth to the mess. Tears flooded his eyes and streamed down his features silently.

As the world became dimmer and dimmer, fading away from the grasp of his consciousness, Heero tried once more to clean Duo's features, to push away the long hairs that obscured the heart-shaped face. But once again all he could manage was to smear more blood and dirt on the still features, and for that, he cried. Shedding silent tears, he cried in sorrow, his eyes slowly closing as he kept weeping silently. He couldn't bear to see Duo's face dirty...

* * *

When dirt cries it gets wet and then it turns into mud. Mud gets stepped on... it's even yuckier than dirt. It's sticky and dirty and sometimes it's really hard to get off your shoes. So dirt should stop crying. It should stop crying so it won't get turned into mud. Dirt isn't supposed to cry. Make it stop crying... make it stop... dirt shouldn't cry... so it won't get stepped on... it shouldn't cry... Soldiers don't cry...

Doesn't dirt know that if it cries, it gets turned into mud? Make it stop! Stop crying Dirt! Stop crying! No one likes mud! No one should like it! It's dirty, it's ugly and it sticks to your shoes. "Don't let mud into the house!" Mothers say. Even mothers don't like mud. It makes their sons dirty. It makes their homes dirty. No one likes it... no one goes near it... no one likes mud...

Dirt shouldn't cry so it won't get turned into mud.

Part 2

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