Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ My Very Own Demon ❯ My Very Own Demon ( One-Shot )

Pairings: None ;.;

Disclaimer: Point me towards enough money, and I'll own them …and then I will make Gundam Wing Series two where Heero and Duo would have hot monkey sex! But unfortunately, I don't own them….yet…*dun dun dun*

Notes: Well, this fic started off to be a 3x4, then my English teacher assigned a creative writing essay so I got rid of the kissing and angsting to do more of a character study….

My Very Own Demon.

It's dark out.

Funny how my mind finally registered the change when it's been dark for hours.

I can't sleep, it's late and I'm confused.

Yeah, I suppose that's why I'm so agitated, it takes a lot to get me annoyed but I guess I'm not exactly annoyed, I'm stressed.

Really stressed.

I sigh and start to pace, brushing my light bangs out of my eyes. Damn, I hate the war. I sigh again, this time angrily. Stretching out my hands before they can clench up again I scratch at my neck, feeling the frustration well up in me. It's still quiet. Usually I like the silence, but not tonight.

Tonight I can't stand the silence.

I whirl around, a ghost of cool air lifts my bangs and I stride purposefully towards the cabinet, flicking the latch I let my eyes travel over the variation of instruments. I finally end up choosing the Bow String instead of the Latin Light Springed. I would much prefer the German violin tonight, not just for the sentimental value but because of the low notes it makes would much better suit my mood.

I suddenly shake my shoulders, getting rid of the tension that I knew was lying dormant. Walking over to the victorian window I slowly let myself unwind, there is no point in playing an instrument if you're to stressed to even place your fingers right.

Taking a deep breath I perched the violin on my shoulder, I mentally picked out a song that would suit the melochany of my mood and started to play. The first notes of a deep tenor soothed over my body, at the moment I could not remember the name of the piece I was playing but I did not really care.

Soon enough I was lost in the music, my eyes fluttered closed and I felt my head nod to the tune as the notes washed over me. I accepted this temporarily escape from the harsh reality of war and bloodshed that I lived in. ..I shuddered and my hand faltered momentarily, shaking my head angrily I banished my thoughts of war and lost myself in the music again.

I remember when I was young, how I used to look up to my father. He had been like a god in my eyes, I had wanted to be just like him. But I don't think I grew up to what my young mind expected to me though. But the past doesn't matter anymore, because all we have left is the future and I'm fighting for my beliefs. I have a place in this war, an important place. I'm a gundam pilot.

But when people look at me they don't see the pain or the pilot. They just see a sheltered little rich boy, spoiled by his father and protected from society.

They don't know how wrong they are.

I've fought and killed like every other soldier, I'm not proud of the fact but I can't deny that it didn't happen. I have the blood of millions on my hands alone so I can not see how people can see me as an innocent.

Me? An innocent?

Don't make me laugh, then choke on the blood of all the people I have killed.

Damn, am I in a dark mood tonight or what?

I nearly laugh out loud at the thought, but fortunately I still can own claim to a few of my brain cells. I could just imagine myself losing all of my marbles and breaking out into hysterical laughter.

That would be an alarming sight.

The song comes to an end and I let the violin clatter to the floor. My head droops in exhaustion and I feel the silence settle over me again.

It's a while before I realize that I have an audience.

I jump and whirl around, my eyes searching for the shape I saw dimly reflected in the window. My eyes zone in on a large shadow of black resting on the wall furthest from me.

I know its him.

"Trowa?"

My voice is weary, rough and grating against the back of my throat. Heh, don't blame me, its been a rough couple of days. He doesn't reply but opts to walk over, taking the velvet pincushioned seat to sit on. I stare in silence for a couple of minutes. The moonlight reflects through the window, slightly illuminating his profile. I let my eyes travel over him, checking for injuries from today's mission. I notice with a wince that he is favoring his right arm slightly. A memory flashes up from earlier. We had been accosted earlier by four Alliance soldiers in corridor B of our escape route. Usually two soldiers each would not have really hindered us but we had been both exhausted. While I had been busy bringing down my two Alliance bastards, Trowa had faltered against his. They had pinned him down and were twisting his arm, attempting to get him to release his hold on his gun. But Trowa had been raised by war mercenaries all his life, and a mercenary never lets go of his weapon.

Before I knew it the guys intent on gutting me caught me off guard, throwing me into the wall and getting in a nasty slice on my abdomen. The pain flared through my senses, jolting awake that dark part of my mind, the part that makes me able to kill on command. That part of me scared me the most, but it was also the most strongest power that I had ever felt, and sometimes I'm afraid that when the war ends that that piece of me won't die, and it would just lie in dormant waiting to wake again.

My hand lashes out to the sheath I have hidden up my sleeve, I was out of bullets from earlier and my bowie knife was my only hope. The spring mechanism on the sheath finally clicked and the Bowie shot out into my hand, making me armed and ready. I saw a fist come at my face and I dodged out of the way, effectively getting myself away from the wall. I elbowed Soldier One then kneed him in the groin, making sure he fell to the ground and did not get back up soon. I heard a roar of rage and turned to see Soldier Two rush at me. I felt my breath rush out of my lungs as my face was slammed up against the wall, cursing in my native tongue I slammed my head back against his then whirled 'round and slashed his arm, making him fall down for the count.

My lungs were gasping for air as I turned to face the scene of Trowa knocking out the last guy with the butt of his gun, obviously he had escaped the arm lock the two Alliance soldiers had had on him. He had nodded over at me silently, his hair resuming its normal place covering half of his face---and effectively obscuring a rather lived bruise. We set of at a run again, adrenaline roaring through our veins as we got through security, Trowa shooting random bullets at anyone who tried to stop us. Before we knew it we had reached the shelter of the trees but that didn't stop us. We stumbled through the undergrowth, branches whipping at us and foots getting tangled in tree roots. My legs were beginning to feel numb from running, but I pushed myself on. We were nearly there…nearly there…

We burst out from the cluster of pine trees and stumbled out onto the road. I heard a roar of engines and turned to see our car man speed up to us.

"Get in, get in!!" Duo yelled, his hands clenched on the steering wheel. "They are releasing the damn Mobile Suits! If we don't go now we'll get as fried as them! What took you guys so long!?"

I scrambled into the back of the jeep while Trowa took the front seat. Duo tossed me back a sniper and I turned, resting my chest on the back off the seat. We had to make sure we had no pursuers. We got another four hundred meters before we heard the electronic whine of overhangers being opened. They were releasing the mobile suits!

"Shit!" Duo cursed loudly, obviously hearing the overhangers as well. He dug around in his jacket, his usually cheery features twisted in an ugly grimace. He made a small sound of triumph as he pulled out a metallic device. I watched with slowly sinking horror as Duo stared at the button, his face suddenly turned blank and he pulled the car to a stop. The tires screeched loudly and it was by pure coincidence that I heard Duo's words over the squeal before he pressed the remote.

"May God have mercy on your souls, because Death won't."

Then the factory blew.

We still weren't far enough away and the aftershock hit us, rocking the car forward a couple of meters. I clutched at the seat as Duo hit the gas, rocketing us forward. We had to get away from here, not just for the sake of the mission, but for the sake of our minds and sanity. We had just blown up one of the biggest mobile suit factories on earth…..and just killed two thousand innocent men. No, not men…Fathers, brothers, sons……by Allah…what have we done?

I felt the heavy rush of emotion well over me, screaming to get out, screaming at me, saying I was a murderer, that I did not have needed to kill all those men. A choking noise ripped out of my throat and I felt a hand grip on my shoulder. I turned my head away from the burning factory to see Trowa, looking at me steadily with his dark green eyes.

"Innocent men die in battle." He stated softly, as if trying to clear away my guilt with some words of reason. I nodded mutely back at him and he turned away, facing the front of the jeep again. I felt my hands clench up again in grief and regret and stared unseeingly at the back of the front seat. I know that what we did was something that had needed to be done, and in the long run I had probably saved more lives then the people that died here today…but I still couldn't help but remember that I had helped set the bombs.

"Quatre?"

My head whipped up as a soft voice brought me back to the present, out of my memories. I saw Trowas face fixed in my direction and I knew that I must have been silent for a while. I felt my gut twist in painful knots as I remembered today's events. My body started to shake and I was suddenly very happy that I had not eaten any food earlier or I would have been retching it up on the expensive carpet before me. I stared back at Trowa, despite my bodies shaking and when I finally got my voice working it surprised me at how cold and harsh I sounded.

"No" I whispered, my voice starting to rise. " Innocent men do not die in war. War effects us all, it molds us, it hurts us, it sometimes even pleases us, but it never ever kills us. Innocent men don't die in battle, innocent men get murdered in battle!" My body slumped and I slowly walked out of the room, not bothering to see his reaction on my outburst. Just before I reached the door I paused and whispered, not caring if Trowa hears of not; "War doesn't kill people, people kill people."

And then I strode out of the room, and tried to deal with my own demons on my own.

* * *

I think this is like the 3rd time I have actually ever finished a fic….and god knows how many I've started >.< Well, I had never written Quatres POV before and this was basically a little test for me, and I also wanted to see if I could write action/mission sorta scenes ^_^;;. I'm actually quite pleased with the fic, comments please?