Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Stale Memories ❯ Stale Memories ( One-Shot )

Stale Memories

By: deadxdreamer

Pairings: 3x4

Warnings: Shonen ai… and ONE curse word ^.^ I'm so proud of myself :P

Disclaimer: *sob sob* I don't own anything, not Gundam Wing, not their characters, and not even the song :*(******* must I rub it in? So yeah, Bohemian Rhapsody *by Queen* and Heero, Duo, Trowa, Quatre, Wufei, their respective Gundams belong to… whoever they belong to :T

***

Trowa sat in the cockpit of Heavyarms, listening to the rhythmic whir of gears and computers, staring out into the black void of space.

Their latest mission found them in the vicinity of the L-3 cluster, ready to intercept a shipment of mobile dolls before they could reach their destination on earth.

"01 checking in, clear."

"The braided shinigami boy wonder checking in, all clear."

"03, clear."

"04, everything looks clear."

"05, I see the enemy approaching."

Trowa pressed bottons quickly as Heavyarms was made active again and ready to meet the enemy. Wufei would be the first to meet them and the envoy would push sucessively back to meet each of the pilots until they got to Heero, their last line of defense.

"They're spilling over to me," Quatre called as the first waves crashed into him.

"I have visual confimation," Trowa said as he saw the machines milling around Sandrock.

A protective urge sprung up from deep within his gut, an urge to fly and help Quatre, to make sure that he would make it out alive. Heero's face popping up on his screen quickly quelled any such emotion.

"Get ready."

"I know."

Trowa cut the transmission and pushed a few more keys and buttons, and felt the rumble of the engines as he flew to meet the rush of Leos, Quatre and Wufei falling into line beside him. Explosion after explosion rocked Heavyarms and recoil after recoil thrust Trowa into the cushioning of his seat from the rounds that were emptying from his Gundam's arms.

"Oooo! Looks like Shinigami's on the spot," Duo said cackling over the air waves.

Cold green eyes followed the line of Leos to the cargo ship still progressively making its way behind the line of soldiers, of expendable lives.

"I'm going for the ship," Trowa said as Sandrock and Shenlong flew past him to join Deathscythe, already engaged in heavy fighting.

Dodging enemy fire, he positioned himself to have a clear shot at the ship. He poised slender fingers above the fire button, when a bright explosion hit him and everything went black as a last fleeting thought crossed his mind.

"Shit."

Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?

Caught in a landslide,

No escape from reality

A sudden cold sensation jerked Trowa back to reality. His eyes felt like they weighed a million tons each as he struggled to lift them. His body ached and he could feel dry blood, stiffened on one side of his face and ice cold water dripping down his face on to his shirt.

"Glad you're awake."

Emerald eyes slid to the source of the noise to see an arrogant OZ officer smirking at him from his chair.

*The others must have not made it,* Trowa thought rapidly as he realized he was captured and still imprisoned during his unconsciousness, which meant the others must have not been able to get to him.

The young officer stood and pulled his chair to sit a few feet in front of his prisoner.

"So this is the mighty pilot of Heavyarms," he said smirking even wider. "You don't look too tough."

Trowa remained silent, procedure being recalled and replayed in his mind.

"Think of something else, if you can detach yourself enough, you won't feel the pain. Just don't look. Never look. Especially at the wounds they give you."

The two soliders continued to sit, merely looking at each other. One with barely hidden mirth and the other looking curious if nothing else.

"Where are the others? Where is the rebel base located(1)?" the officer asked sitting back.

Trowa merely looked at the wall just past his shoulder, unmoving, his face a virtual mask. In truth, he hadn't heard the officer's question.

Memories of a blond boy flooded his mind. A bright smile and a flash of amusement in glittering cerulean blue eyes.

His head was jerked to the side by the force of the blow.

The sweet sound of Quatre's laughter bubbling up from that untouchable source that made Quatre… Quatre. The way his small hand would fit into his own like a glove, like a second hand.

Blood ran down a cut on his cheekbone and dripped onto his shoulder.

Listening to the pleasant sound of Quatre's voice calling his name… making it seem like his own, making it seem like a heavenly sigh, more beautiful than he thought it could be.

A loud crack could be heard as a blow landed on his side.

Just as black enveloped him a second time, a smile touched his mouth as he thought of the way his blond love fit just so into his arms and the crook of his neck. His angel. His heavenly creature. His.

Open your eyes

Look up to the skies and see

I'm just a poor boy

I need no sympathy

Trowa lay looking at the steel ceiling, clinging to the vague hope that they were going to find him, rescue him. That he could see Quatre again, instead of feed on his memories that served as the morphine he didn't have.

He could barely move without pain. They didn't feed him. He lay in his bunk, still covered his blood. When he pain got bad, he would think. Thinking was all he could do. Think and wait. Think and wait.

"Am I going crazy?" he whispered to the window, turning his head despite the knives of pain stabbing his consciousness because of the small movement.

The stars glittered at him, winking and shimmering. "I just want to see you again." A ragged laugh formed in his throat and pushed itself upward until he was clutching his middle from the pain of laughing.

"I'm going to die."

Any way the wind blows

Doesn't really matter to me

To me

Quatre glared Duo down. "No, we're going out to make another sweep for that ship."

"Quatre! No! Face it! He's probably dead by now. There's nothing we can do! Just… let him go," Duo said hating himself for saying the words, but someone had to. They had all been looking for two days now, slipping into every base thinkable on earth, looking for Trowa. Duo sighed and flicked his braid behind his shoulder and looked at Quatre who was pacing at the window of their current safe house, bathed in yellow sunlight.

"He's not dead Duo. I… I know these things. He's still out there, somewhere, hoping we can find him. If we just make one more sweep, I'm sure we can find him. We just… need to make one more sweep," he said looking out the window at the lush green trees.

Duo stood and put his hands on the smaller boy's shoulders and shook him gently. "Quat, you need to get some rest. You're running on nothing right now. Let's just get you to bed."

"No. I'm going to go and get Sandrock ready for another run."

"Quatre, there's no point in you risking ---"

"Yes there is Duo because he would do the same for me and I'm not about to let him down."

Mama, just killed a man

Put a gun against his head

Pulled my trigger now he's dead

Mama life had just begun but now I've gone and thrown it all away

He was running like a trapped rat running one of those absurd tests in a maze, turning corners and running blindly, trying to shake the soldier that was following him.

*Have to find him, have to find him.*

Shouts could be heard and the sound of more and more soldiers following him grew louder.

*Room 106, 106, 106, 106.*

Sliding to a stop by the cell door, he quickly picked the lock and peered in. Quatre was up and ready to leave, clasping his hand as Trowa ran quickly down the hall.

"Why did you come?" Quatre asked breathlessly as they continued to run, trying to find an exit.

He hadn't really expected an answer, it just wasn't something one expected of Trowa. They continued to run in silence and finally burst out of a door and made a run for the fence.

Shots were being fired at them as Trowa laced his fingers together and made a foot hold for Quatre and boosted him over the fence. He then straightened up and prepared to jump the fence himself. A bullet grazed his arm and a body slammed into him.

Trowa pulled himself free and pulled his gun. He had never shot someone at close range before. The soldier automatically drew his own gun. Trowa fired first, blood splattering on his face and arms.

"I… I didn't think I'd die so soon," the young man smirked and looking down at the blood gushing from a single bullet in his gut.

Trowa scrambled up and stood looking at the fallen soldier only this time it didn't look like a soldier anymore, just a young boy playing soldier.

"Trowa! Let's GO!"

Quatre's voice sliced into his thoughts and he jumped the chain link fence and ran with the Sandrock pilot back to where he had his gundam waiting for them.

I didn't think I'd die so soon….

Quatre's hand on his shoulder roused him from his reverie.

"Are you all right?"

He cold shouldered Quatre then, like he always did, like he did to everyone and walked away. The smaller boy grasped his hand and wouldn't let him.

"Trowa? Are you all right?"

He looked down at Quatre for the first time, really looked at him. He bit back the urge to smile and gave a quick nod, pulling his hand away. Quatre caught his hand again and pulled him around, crushing his little frame against Trowa's. He hugged him tightly and nuzzled his head into the crook of Trowa's neck.

"If you ever need to talk Trowa… please… please talk to me."

Unconsciously Trowa had put his arms up and held the blond pilot to his chest. Deep inside a voice had started to call to him, one that he had tried to hide and bury, the one that whispered in the back of his mind what he tried to deny. "You love him."

Mama…

Didn't mean to make you cry

If I'm not back again this time tomorrow

Carry on, carry on

Nothing really matters

His security blanket was slipping, his memories growing stale and old. It had been four days since he had been caught and he had been moved three times, transported from prison cell to prison cell, trying to throw off his scent to the other pilots. Thus he knew they had gotten out alive, that he was alive.

His ribs had started to heal, they would need to be rebroken and set. His left eye could be opened a slit now and other broken bones had begun to heal. The last prison had even fed him a scrap of something. "At least it was edible," he consoled himself.

He felt weak like all the other days, a blur of memories and pain.

"I'm sorry…."

Blue eyes looked up at him, wobbling with unshed tears, the smile belying the broken heart inside. "No. No apologies."

"I could die at any moment. So could you…."

"I know. You're completely right. I don't know why I said it…. Just forget it Trowa. I was being dumb," Quatre said turning away, unable to look into his emerald green eyes anymore.

"No you weren't."

The Arabian chuckled and turned back to the Heavyarms pilot. "If I die Trowa… would you care?"

That stung. His words dug painfully into his chest. Of course he would care. "Forget about me Quatre. I'm not worth you or your feelings. I'm… I'm sorry I made you cry."

"Please leave."

"Quatre -"

"Please Trowa… just leave."

*That was the last time I saw him,* Trowa thought to himself, feeling miserable.

The door slid open again and rough hands dragged him up. They were going to question him again.

Too late

My time has come

Sends shivers down my spine

Body's aching all the time

He heard the yelling and the gunshots in the distance, it was like he was underwater and nothing really made sense anymore. The door slid open, but this time, the touch was gentle and the hand soft. It brushed the hair away from his face.

"My God Trowa, what did they do to you?"

It hurt to move, it hurt to breath, it hurt to exist, but it hurt most to see the tears coming from those angelic blue eyes.

"Don't… cry… over me Quatre…."

"Can… can you stand?" his breath hitched as tears spilled from his eyes.

"I think so."

They slowly and painfully made they way out, arm in arm, hand in hand.

Good bye every body

I've got to go

Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth

Heero watched silently as Quatre was being led out of the room and given tranquilizers by a nurse. He was hysterical, cursing and sobbing and yelling. Heero slid his eyes back to the mangled mess that remained of Trowa. He had multiple fractures, one of his arms set at an angle. His face was badly bruised and his jaw broken. He had slipped into a coma once they had gotten him safely out of the OZ base.

Duo and Wufei were talking in hushed tones beside where he stood, both looking at Trowa, Duo holding his broken hand.

"Trowa would have wanted us to."

"But… what if-"

"I don't want to see him like this."

"I don't think either of us do."

"So do we pull the plug?"

They both turned and looked at Heero who looked down at the injured pilot and slowly nodded his head.

Mama…

(anyway the wind blows)

I don't want to die

Sometimes wish I'd never been born at all.

The funeral was simple and short, the five gundam pilots and Catherine the only ones who attended. An angel sat atop the grave marker, watching sternly on its perch, looking at them with empty eyes and hands chisled into prayer.

Quatre stood looking at the plain marker, long after the others had left.

So you think you can stop me and spit in my eye?

He sank to his knees and held his head in his hands as grief overcame him.

So you think you can love me and leave me to die?

"Why did you have to leave me? Trowa? I loved you," he whispered and refused to shed any more tears.

Oh baby

He looked up at the angel that sat looking back at him.

Can't do this to me baby

Quatre pulled his gun and looked at it carefully before pushing the barrell against his temple.

Just gotta get out

"Quatre NO!"

Just gotta get right out of here

Bang.

Nothing really matters

Anyone can see

Nothing really matters

Nothing really matters to me

~ owari ~

1) heh, sounds Star Wars-esque ^.^ I couldn't help myself :P

C&C Please!! :D it's my first fic… I didn't do that badly did I?